Fly Anew
by Fiery Wordess
Summary: Also known as Alone and Afraid or Frightened New World, I thought the title should be changed so voila
1. Goodbye

I leaned my head against the cool window of the airplane and watched the tumbling blue waves of the ocean.  My mother slept in the seat next to mine and my father was reading a book on pathology.  It was thanks to his interest in pathology that we were moving.  He couldn't be one of those normal dads who just went the next state over; instead it had to be the next country.  What better country than the United Kingdom?  

His great, big glasses were only for reading but every time I saw them I prayed I never had to get glasses like that.  They took up about half of his face.  My eyes were big enough without glasses to make them look like giant orbs.  On the bright side, in the UK there were all-girls schools and no boys could see me.  Ever.  I hadn't looked in the mirror for three months because of my acne.  It just kept coming and going like some bizarre plague.  The boys at school had called me Freaky Favian.  Favian, what a weird name.  Why the hell did my mother have to name me Favian?  It was like asking people to make fun of me.  

The plane flew into dark clouds and we were completely surrounded by mist.  

_Beep._

"We are experiencing some minor turbulence and would ask the passengers to remain seated."  Said the captain.  

My mother, who had a weird fear of flying, jerked awake.

"Oh sweet Jesus."  She muttered.  

I always found it funny when she said Jesus, God, or Lord because we weren't religious at all.  A small smile crept onto my lips but fell off as the plane jolted violently.  My mother inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut.

"It'll be all right, Mom.  It always is."  I said, but fear was growing in the pit of my stomach.

"Of course, Favian."  She nodded in agreement.

"Jane, will you hold this for a moment?"  Dad handed his enormous book to Mom.  She held it in shaking hands as Dad retrieved a bookmark from under his seat.  "Thanks.  I can't read when we're in turbulence.  I get motion sickness."

"Oh."  Mom squeaked as the plane shook again.  She grabbed my wrist and squeezed.  I didn't protest, even as I lost circulation.  

The Fasten Seatbelt light flashed on and Mom tightened hers with her free hand.  I watched my hand slowly turning purple under my mother's clutching hand.  I didn't feel it because the fear was numbing.  Something… I couldn't name it… something was wrong and I knew that this wasn't going to end all right.

"I love you Mom."  I shouldn't have said that because Mom began to cry.  "Dad, I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Favian, it's okay.  I understand completely."  His face was stark white.

The plane shook and the captain's voice came up.

"Um… folks, please remain calm.  I think… oh God.  What do you mean engine failure?"

A woman behind me shrieked and stood up.  

"WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"  She wailed.

"Shut up."  Someone muttered.  

A baby started to cry.  

And then the plane began to plummet for the violent waters below.  I felt tears slowly rolling down my face as I sensed our imminent deaths.  My mother had let go of my arm and wrapped her arms around my father.  She grabbed me and hugged me too.  Then she went back to hugging Dad.  I unbuckled myself, feeling that the belt was too restrictive.  I wanted to die feeling somewhat free.  I was only fifteen and I was going to die, die, die.  I had never had alcohol, sex, voting privileges, a high school degree, children, a job… I was dying without experiencing life.

I regretted, right then, every time that I hadn't done something out of fear.  I wished that I had asked that boy on a date when I had the chance, that I had eaten ice cream and cookies without fearing all the fatty calories I'd be getting, that I had stood up for myself and slapped Lindsey Mallory when she said I was a "speckle-faced-freak name Favian, which is a boy's name!"  My God, I was going down without having made any of my own choices!  

"No!"  I cried out.  "I'm not ready to die!"

Mom sobbed so hard and Dad began to cry as well.  I looked at the window and wished it were gone so I could dive out and feel as though I had had _some say in my death.  It cracked.  I wasn't surprised until it flew out of its frame.  Fifty feet from the water I hurled myself out and prepared myself for the death-bringing slap of water._

It never came.  Just as I jumped out of the plane I started drifting down slowly to the turbulent waters below.  The plane went down and crashed into the water, breaking upon impact.  Smoke billowed up from the plane and I had the sickened feeling that no one had survived… but me.

"Mom!  Dad!"  I screamed.  I finally fell into the water and was thrown under by a malevolent wave.  I choked and swam upwards.  The plane would stay afloat for awhile.  I swam over to it before being dunked again.  I gulped in air and continued for the smoking plane.  A wing was floating on the water, drifting towards me.  I grabbed hold of it.  "Mom!  Dad!  DAMN IT!  RESPOND!"  I shrieked.  

Nothing.

The windows of the plane sunk under the surface just as I saw the bloody corpses of the passengers.  Dead.  Dead.  All of them.  Down to the last baby.  I began to sob like an infant, like the baby on the plane that was now gone.  I thought that _I had been too young to die… what about her?  The rain poured down from the dark clouds and I knew that even though I hadn't died in the plane that I was definitely doomed at sea.  I was in the middle of the Atlantic miles from land or boat.  I moaned, not restraining my tears or wails.  No one was there to ridicule me, and if they were, they wouldn't have.  They'd be crying too._

I don't know for how long I cried.  Hours, minutes, seconds… seconds felt like hours and hours felt like days, but during that time I had fought to stay afloat, occasionally slipping off of my airplane wing.  Now the waters were calming down and were as placid as the ocean could be.  The clouds blew away to show the dark, starry sky.  I didn't recognize the constellations at first because they were all blurred due to my tears.  But there was the North Star, Polaris.  I remembered my dad showing me how to find it through his telescope.  It was easier without it.  Just follow the far side of the Big Dipper and voila, you had the North Star.  Unimpressive star, really.  Mom was right, it was boring.  But I still loved the night sky.  At sea I had the best view of the heavens that I had ever had.  Dad would've loved it.

_He's dead now, he'll never see it.  I allowed tears to trickle down my face, too tired to make any noise.  I tried to wipe my nose on my sleeve, but my sleeve was soaked.  I was shivering in the cold.  If I didn't drown I would get hypothermia or die of thirst and starvation.  _

"Great decision, Favian.  The first you make is a real stinker."  

My eyes slowly drooped shut.  Soon I would be joining my parents in death.  At least I wouldn't have to live without them.  But my eyes snapped open again.  How was it that I had survived jumping fifty feet into a turbulent ocean?

I had floated down!  But how?!  Was there any scientific explanation for how that might've worked?  I wracked my brain.  I had landed relatively softly in the waters.  That wasn't logical.  I squeezed my eyes shut.  It wasn't the first weird thing that had happened to me.  Once a mad hair dresser had decided I would look good with a mullet.  It was so hideous that I had spent all night crying into my pillow.  I had only wanted a trim, I liked my hair long.  The next morning, however, I had awoken to find it had all grown back.  I figured it must've been a weird nightmare but my parents noticed too.  Since there was no explanation we just continued on our way without discussing it.  

Maybe there was a God and he did love me.  

No, I had too many zits for God to love me.  The man probably loathed me if he existed.

_Think!  But I couldn't.  My brain was too foggy and I fell, spiraling down into a deep sleep. _

Yeah, I was going to drown.

I woke up with a rock poking roughly into my side.  A wave rolled up over me, leaving a great wet spot on my jeans.  I sat up slowly, squinting in the too-bright sun.  Why on earth was I sleeping outside? 

_Man, what an awful dream.  I looked out at the ocean and realized that it was no dream.  To my left lay the broken wing of the plane.  I continued to stare, in a daze, at the ocean, expecting to wake up at any moment.  I sat for so long that my butt became numb from the rocks pushing into it so I stood.  _

"What do I do?"  I whispered.  Tears trickled down my face and stopped suddenly.  I was so thirsty, hungry and sore.  I looked up at the land mass I was on and wondered where I was.  Scotland, Ireland, or England?  I started trudging up the shore.  Had it not been the summer I would have been freezing.  Lucky for me it was mid-August and I already felt my neck getting burned by the sun.  

"Help."  My voice cracked.  

My throat and mouth were parched.  There was nobody to hear me anyway.  Even if I had screamed my heart out nobody would've responded.  The more land I traveled over the more grass there was.  I was in a large field in knee-deep grass before I knew it.  Eventually the grass reached my shoulders, but that was because I had sunk to my knees and started to cry again, heavy dry sobs of desperation and loneliness.  

"No, make a right choice."  I whispered, and got wobbly to my feet.

A wind picked up and my long auburn hair tossed around my face, salt-caked and in need of shampoo.  My shoulders were shaking.  

My parents were dead and I was lost.  I had survived by magic or a miracle.

Or God really, _really_ hated me.

I saw a dark forest after a long time of wandering through the tall fields.  I didn't want to get any more burned than I had to so I full-out ran to its welcoming shade.  I collapsed to the ground and panted.  I was so thirsty, tired and hungry.  I ran my fingers through my snarled hair.  My clothes had dried and become hard and crusty.  My shirt was irritating my skin and had torn in several places.  I took it off.  My undershirt was at least in one piece and tight enough that it wouldn't rub my skin.  My jeans, which had holes in them now, were difficult to move it.  I started to tear at them and managed to rip only bigger holes at the knees.  I gave up on that pursuit and began to look for a stream.  

The forest was dark and the further in I went the darker it got.  I suppose that was to be expected but I felt a tremor pass down my spine.  Suddenly I wanted out, even if there was a stream nearby.  The problem was that I was utterly lost.  Then I heard running water and decided that there was no use to being lost and thirsty.  The water looked clean enough and even if it was poisoned I was going to die of something sooner or later.  I gulped gratefully at the stream.  After I had gotten all I needed, the cold water trickling down my esophagus and into my stomach noticeably, I stood back up and looked around for berries or something that might feed me.

I wandered deeper into the forest and got even more lost, not that it mattered how lost I got, I doomed forever and I knew it.  I groaned but stopped suddenly.  I thought I heard whispering.  Whispering meant people.

"Hello?"  I tried.

The whispering stopped.  

"Please!  If there's someone there… help me.  I am so lost…."  Then I realized what I was saying.  "But on the bright side, I am not defenseless.  In fact, I'm a black belt in karate."  I lied.  "Not that that will help me against wild animals or anything, but it's good to know how to break things with my fists…."

There was no response.  

I continued wandering through the woods.  A few moments later the whispering started again.

I made out two words only: human and girl.

Human?  Well, that was weird.  Of course I was human!  I mean, what else talks?  I stopped walking again.

"Look, this really isn't funny.  I'm serious.  I've just lost my parents in a plane crash and by some weird miracle I managed to wash up on shore.  I don't even know what _country _I'm in.  If you're trying to scare me it doesn't matter because I am resigned to a fate of death."  Still no response.  "Come on!  What kind of a sick bastard are you?!"  I shouted.  

There were slow hoof beats of about three deer or horses or something.  I turned in the direction of the noise and my jaw dropped.

Three centaurs.  Men from the waist up horse everywhere else.  One was a black man with a black horse.  His dark eyes glittered with intelligence.  The other two were white-skinned.  One was blond and the other had black hair.  The blond had a palomino body while the black-haired one had a black body with white spots.  

They were scary because they had crossbows notched with sharp arrows.  And they were pointing them at me.                 


	2. Forbidden Forest

"You will come with us."  The black centaur said coolly.

"Agreed."  I squeaked, watching his finger, holding the trigger delicately.

"Follow me."  Said the blond.  "And don't try to do anything foolish, we will not hesitate to shoot."

"I swear I will not try to be foolish."  _But if I do something stupid I probably didn't mean to._

The blond walked ahead of me at a considerable pace.  The other two centaurs walked behind me, aiming their weapons at me and speaking in an undertone.  I crossed my arms protectively over my chest and followed the centaur.  I tripped once on a rock but righted myself at once, looking back to make sure the centaurs weren't preparing to shoot.  

"Keep moving."  Ordered the black-haired one.  

I nodded and scurried to regain what time I had lost.  The blond centaur led us into a small clearing.  I was amazed at the structures that had been built.  Along the trees thatched roofs had been built and walls had been procured but no house had a door really.  In between every wall were possessions such as weapons and blankets.  Female centaurs were watching the foals outside of the houses.  Not that they could really be called houses.  Baby centaurs were inside with their mothers, learning to walk.  Baby from the waist up and foal body.  It was an extremely odd combination.

One mother was humming to a sleeping infant lying on a soft blanket.  I felt incomplete with only two legs among a four-legged culture.  

"Bane!"  Shouted the blond.  "We have a human!"  

Another centaur with dark eyes galloped out from the woods and into the clearing.

"Shall we kill her?"  Asked the blond.  "Or is she foal enough?"

"She is on the brink of adulthood, but she is indeed a foal."  Bane squinted at me.  "What clothes are these?"

Everyone in the clearing was watching me now, whispering quietly.  I was the only person with clothes.  Would they take them from me?

"Er… they're a little dirty, I know, but… I do have a reason.  I just washed up from the sea and…."

"No, I did not ask why they were dirty.  I asked what kind of clothes they were."

"These are called blue jeans and this is called an undershirt."

"Where is the over shirt?"  Bane asked.

"The usual shirt, you mean?  I took it off because it was too shredded to bother with."  

"I have never seen men wear these clothes before."  He said suspiciously.

"O- Oh?  Do you see humans often?"  I asked politely.

He sneered.  "I try not to."

"So, you don't like humans.  I see."  I bit my lip.  "Is this your forest?  I'm really sorry, I got lost in it… I'm just trying to find… someone… who…might help me."  I blushed.

"Where is your herd?"

"My what?"  I said dumbly.

"Your family."  Said the blond.

"They… they're dead now.  They died in an airplane crash."  They were frowning.  "An airplane is…."

Bane cut me off.  "We know perfectly well what an airplane is.  Why didn't they use their wands to free themselves like the rest of you men do?"

"Wands?  What wands?"

There was a gasp.

"She's a muggle!"  Said a female centaur.

"How did you survive?"  Asked Bane.

"I'm not really sure."  I admitted.  "I just sort of… floated down."

"Ah, muggle-born."  Said the female centaur who had spoken before.  "You are a witch."  

At this point I was ready to believe anything.

"That is how you are still alive.  Let me take her to the school, Bane."  The female said.

"Not you, Vimélana."  Bane said sternly.  "You have important duties here.  Where is Firenze?"

"Right here, sir."  A centaur with white-blond hair rode into the clearing.  "I shall take her to Hogwarts at once."

"Has the year even started yet?"  Asked another centaur.

"No, but some of the teachers are there already.  They can help her."  Bane looked meaningfully at Firenze.  "Return as soon as you get here there.  No dilly-dallying."

"Of course sir."  He looked at me with pale blue eyes.  "Come, let us go."  And he walked ahead of me.  I ran to catch up to him and we left the clearing behind.

He didn't speak at all until we were a good distance from the clearing.  "What is your name?"

"Favian."  I said, shocked that he cared.

"Favian, that's a nice name.  Your accent is not from here, or England.  Where are you from?"

"America."

"Oh?  Was your herd coming to Britain?"

"Yes."  I nodded.  Then I asked, "Do you hate humans too?"

"No."  Firenze blinked slowly.  "I do not."

"Oh good."  I felt filled with relief.

"Is this your first time in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Yes.  I've never even been in the country before."

"They call it Scotland now."

"Oh."  I could hear his brogue, I just hadn't thought about it.  "That was my first encounter with centaurs."

Firenze sighed.  "I apologize."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

"Is it your fault?"  I asked.

"No."

I was perplexed.

"The reason that Bane detests humans is because of the actions of a few.  He holds your entire race accountable."

I didn't ask what these actions were.  "That's sad."

"Yes it is.  Come; let's make better time to Hogwarts.  Get on my back if you will."  

I hesitantly straddled him.  I held onto his bare shoulders as he began to gallop.  I kept my head down because of low branches.  I didn't want to be knocked off.  Minutes later we had reached the other end of the forest.  I got off of Firenze's back.   

"Thank you."  I said sincerely.

"It was my pleasure, Favian.  Hagrid is not home so do not try the hut." 

"Oh okay."

"Head straight to the castle and knock on the door three times.  It will open and you will probably be able to find a teacher.  I wish you luck, Favian."  And he galloped away.  

I was left at the edge of the forest.  A few feet more and I was behind a tiny hut.  I wanted to run to the door and have someone take me in, but I knew that Hagrid, whoever this person was, wasn't home.  There was a garden full of weeds that looked edible to me.  But everything looked edible to me; I was utterly starving.  

Etched against the darkening sky was an enormous castle.  

"Hogwarts."  I voiced.  I felt so alone.

Slowly I traipsed up to the castle, passing a large, intimidating tree that almost looked capable of harm.  I steered clear of it, even though I knew I was being silly.  I finally reached what appeared to be the entrance.  The stairway was guarded by two stone pigs with wings.  Not very fearsome, but whatever floats whoever's boat….  I went up the stairs more quickly than I had approached the castle.  I raised a trembling fist to knock on the great oak door.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

And the door opened.

"Hello?"  My voice echoed in the empty hallway.  I thought I heard whispering, but all I could see were paintings and a few torches.  At least I knew somebody was there.  "Um, I'm really sorry to barge in like this, but I… I've just lost my way."  I was going to say parents but my throat constricted and my eyes welled with tears.  Losing my parents was like having a constant heartache, knowing that I would never see them again.  At least I had been able to tell them I loved them.  

I could've sworn I had seen a painting move, but when I turned to look the woman in the portrait was still leaning on her frilly umbrella.  And then she _winked at me.  I blinked rapidly.  She was smiling the same as before.  I must've been really tired.  But why not moving paintings?  This was a different world, full of magic and human-hating centaurs.  _

"Did- did you just move?"  I asked in a shaking voice.

"Why, yes I did!"  She straightened up and laughed.  Her red hair was in ringlets around her neck but most was put up in a bun.  She tossed her umbrella to rest upon her shoulder.  "And did _you just speak?"_

"I… I guess so."  

"Amazing!"  She continued to laugh.

"Abigail!  Stop teasing the poor girl!  Can't you see she's been through the mill?"  A portly man said from another portrait.  He wore a long black robe and a crinkly smile.  "Hello, are you lost then?"

"Yes and no."  I admitted.  "I know I'm in Scotland now in a place called Hogwarts but that's all."  

"Look at the state of her attire, Mendague!  She's in dire need of a bath and clean clothes!"

"Abigail, she's suffered enough without your teasing her."

"I'm not!  I'm looking out for the lass's welfare, you old coot.  I'll be back."  And she ran from the painting, pink skirts flying behind her.  She reappeared in another painting, stopping only to say excuse me before running to the next.

Dazed, I stood in the middle of the room, unsure of where to go or what to do.

"First time to Hogwarts?"  Mendague asked delicately.

I nodded vaguely.

"You don't look like a first year.  You look like you're fifteen at least."

"I am."

"Did you come from an American school then?  Which one?  Red and White Rosebuds?  Salem's Sorcery?  King George's Academy?"

"I went to Horseheads High School."  I said.

"Never heard of it!  Must be new!  Who was the headmaster?"

"Do you mean principal?" 

"No… I… Oh dear."  Mendague speculated for a moment.  "Are… are you a muggle then?"

"According to the centaurs I'm muggle-born, whatever that means."  I put a hand to my forehead.  I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor.

"I didn't think you could be a muggle, not if you got in here."  Mendague got back his cheerful demeanor.  "So this must all be a shock for you then!  What do your parents think?"

I didn't say anything.  My arm was still bruised from where my mother had squeezed it the night before.  I didn't want the bruises to heal; they were the last reminder I had of her.

"Where _are _your parents?"  He persisted.                                                                           

"I don't know."  I whispered.  

"They lost you?"

"I lost them."

"You'll find them soon enough.  Professor Dumbledore of McGonagall will help you.  Just you wait."

He was wrong, of course.  I didn't counter him; I couldn't bring myself to say it again.  

"Ah!  If I'm not very much mistaken, here they come now!"

There was a sound of approaching footsteps, clattering through the hallway.  I drew a shuddering breath, wondering what creatures would confront me.  

"Professors!  Pleasure to see you!"  Said Mendague happily.

"Who is this?"  Asked a rather severe-looking woman.  Her hair was drawn back in a tight bun and her lips were pursed.  When she looked at my eyes, which must've been filled with tears again, her expression softened.

"Well, well, I suppose we should feed this girl."  An old man with twinkling blue eyes and half-moon spectacles smiled warmly at me.  His beard was long and white and could've wrapped around his head a few times if he ever cared to try.  They both wore long cloaks and pointy hats.  I felt like I was at a very serious Halloween party.

"What is your name?"  Asked the woman.

"F-Favian."  I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed deeply.  "Favian Clark." 

"Well, Ms. Clark, what is it that brought you to Hogwarts?"  The woman continued.

"Minerva," the old man said quietly, "let's get her fed before she has to go into that.  I can see it is not a happy tale she has to tell and what worse way to tell it than on an empty stomach?"  He reached a hand down and I took it.  He helped me to my feet.  "Come, Favian, let's get you to the kitchens."          


	3. Hogwarts and Floo

In the past the talking paintings would have sent me gaping away.  The centaurs had readied me for anything.  Well, almost anything.  I expected the professors to use their magic wands that were poking from their pockets to get us to the kitchens.  Instead we walked down a hallway to a painting of a fruit bowl.  I thought, at first, that it was some sort of a joke but then Minerva tickled the pear.  It squirmed and finally let out a high pitched giggle and became a doorknob.  

Amazed I stood staring at the doorway until the old man gave me a gentle push through the door.  In the kitchen were twenty or so little… creatures.  They were sort of cute, I suppose.  They had large floppy ears and enormous eyes that made me feel like I had been wrong to wish for smaller eyes all my life.  People had always said that I looked like a begging puppy.  Well, these little people looked like their eyes were bulging out of their sockets.  Their noses were also bulbous but they were always smiling.

"House-elves."  The old man explained calmly.  

I nodded, though it was my first time hearing of them.

"Miffle, Pookie, Snarfy, could we get some dinner for this girl please?"  Minerva asked.  Three house-elves came over and bowed happy to comply.  They scurried off and arrived moments later with a respective feast.  

"Is there perhaps a table down here that we could use?"  The man asked politely.  

"Yes, Professor Headmaster Dumbledore, sir."  A house-elf bowed eagerly.  "Right this way, sir.  Follow me, sir."  And the house-elf showed us to a small table with many small chairs.  "But the chairs may be too small."  The house-elf's ears drooped slightly.

"No problem," said Professor Dumbledore.  "We can use an engorgement charm.  But you will have your chairs back to normal once we're done.  Please, can you bring Favian's food to the table?"

"Yes Headmaster."  The food was brought to the table and set in front of my seat.  Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and mumbled something along the lines of "engorgio" and the table and chairs became twice their regular size.

"Take a seat, Favian."  Dumbledore pulled a chair out for me and waited until I sat to take another chair.  Minerva McGonagall took a seat next to him and watched me closely.  I was ravenous and consumed much of my meal without stopping.  I didn't recognize my drink; it was very sweet and refreshing though.  It was a light yellowish color.  I hoped it wasn't pee of some magical animal.  Because I didn't want to know, I didn't ask.

"Thank you."  I said gratefully, once I had eaten enough.

Professor Dumbledore waved his hand.  "Think nothing of it.  Now, you have a story to share.  I cannot imagine that it is easy but we, Professor McGonagall and myself, need to understand what has happened to you in order to help."

I nodded.  I drew a deep shuddering breath and told them my tale.  I felt dead as I told them again about my parents, but I needed to feel dead in order to keep my tears at bay.  Professor Dumbledore's light blue gaze never left mine.  He looked sympathetic as did Professor McGonagall.  I appreciated their concern.  

"Favian," Professor Dumbledore said softly, "I'm going to ask you to do something that will be very difficult for you but I think might help in your new world."  I watched him intently.  "You can never go back to America.  Everyone you've ever known will think that you are dead.  Instead you are going to stay in the wizarding world to be trained as a witch."

I didn't respond vocally, but bobbed my head.

"Normally," Professor McGonagall said, "had you been trained right off the bat you would be in your fifth year now but you know nothing of witchcraft and are a beginner.  Fifth year is a difficult time because of O.W.L.s and we couldn't ask you to try and catch up to their level yet."

"Not yet, Professor McGonagall."  Dumbledore laid a hand on her arm.  "The last thing she needs right now is more to worry about.  I'm about to dish out more, so let's forget about school for now."

"What do you mean, Albus?"  Professor McGonagall looked skeptically at him.

"The Order of the Phoenix, of course."

"Albus!  You… you think it wise to bring her into this?"

"I think there is no other choice, Minerva.  She is muggle-born and will have no preconception of Voldemort," McGonagall shivered, "Sirius or Peter.  And where else would you have her stay?  It would immerse her immediately and thoroughly into her new world."

"I suppose you are right."  McGonagall frowned.  "Ms. Granger is already there, is she not?"

"Indeed."

"She could help Favian start to learn the motions of being a witch."  McGonagall turned back to me.  "How did you do in the muggle schools?"

I was uncomfortable with that question.  "Okay."  Which was a lie, I did excellently in school, which was another reason that people made fun of me.  _Teacher's pet, nerd, geek.  Ninth grade had been my best year, which was why I had been so angry at Dad for moving.  People were actually being nice to me and three boys had asked me on a date.  Three!  At least I had apologized to my father.  I didn't need to feel guilty.  But I felt loss._

"Just okay?"  Dumbledore smiled.  "What was your average?"

"This year it was 99.1%."  I admitted, blushing furiously.  My parents had been so pleased that they had bought me a laptop computer. 

"I think you'll do fine."  Dumbledore winked.  "If we get her to number 12 Grimmauld Place tonight Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley would be able to start informing her on the situation.  Is Mr. Potter there yet?"  

"I believe so."  Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Better still.  They can start training you at once."

"Floo powder, Albus?"  It sounded like a suggestion.

"Good idea."  Dumbledore nodded.  We stood up; I was feeling overwhelmed and exhausted.  "First, _reducio._"  The table and chairs shrank back to normal.

I blinked a couple of times.  My eyes were swimming in and out of focus.  Everything was so unreal to me.  Professor McGonagall kept a steadying hand on my shoulder as she led me through the halls and up a lot of different staircases.  

"Careful, jump this step."  

I did, wondering why but not asking.  

Moments later we were in front of a fireplace.  Professor McGonagall took a pinch of glittering green powder and threw it into the flames. 

"Favian, do as I do."  She walked into the emerald green flames unflinchingly.  "Number 12 Grimmauld Place!"  And she was gone.

"Now you," Dumbledore held a porcelain cup out to me.  I took a handful of the glittering powder and threw it in the fire.  Because McGonagall hadn't been hurt I walked unfazed into the green blaze.

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place."  I said, accidentally imitating McGonagall's accent.  Suddenly I was spinning around and around.  I could see hundreds of fireplace openings whirring by me.  I closed my eyes for a moment but feared that I might miss something important and pried them open again.  Suddenly I was pitched headfirst out of another fireplace and into an unfamiliar room.  

"Minerva!  What an unexpected surprise!"

"Most surprises are, Mollie."  McGonagall was brushing herself off.

A rather pudgy red-haired woman walked over quickly, a long wand in hand.  "Oh dear, who is this?"

Then Professor Dumbledore came waltzing through the fireplace, looking as steady as ever.

"Mollie, can I speak to you for a moment?  Minerva, show Favian to a room if you would."

"Of course, headmaster."  

I stood up wobbling slightly.  McGonagall put a hand on my shoulder and guided me through the door.  

"She can share a room with Hermione and Ginny!"  Mollie whispered loudly.

There was the most horrible decoration in the house.  It was utterly dark and shrunken heads lined a wall.  Black drapes covered… something in the main hall.  Presumably a window.  Professor McGonagall led me up a set of stairs and steered me into a room devoid of life except for a few daisies sitting in a glass of water.  McGonagall frowned at the two beds and shrugged.  She conjured another with a flick of her wand, placing it in between the two.

"Take a rest, Favian.  There's no need to worry until morning."  

"Then there's a need eventually."  I mumbled.

"Sadly, there always is."                             


	4. Assimilating Properly

(A/N: I know I've been writing fast but right now is a great time for that because I just finished writing my first novel and I'm still waiting for the agents to respond.  Thus I am in a writing mood.  Voila.  It works.)

I slept easily through the night, unperturbed by anything.  I dreamed of house-elves dancing for a group of frowning centaurs.  Because it was a bizarre dream, as all of mine were, I was quite content to lie there and watch it.  When morning finally came I was unaware of it.  It took someone poking me to wake me up.

"Psst!"  

I opened my eyes slowly.  I said the first thing that came to mind.  "Why bother whispering when it's your intention to wake me up?"

"That's a good question."  There were two red-headed boys standing at either side of my bed.  "Fred, why _do we whisper?"_

"Dunno!"  Said Fred cheerfully.  They looked awfully alike.  

"Are you two brothers?"  I asked groggily.

"Why, yes we are!"  

"Oh."

"Who are you anyway?"  Fred asked, sitting at the end of my bed.  

I sat up and rubbed my eyes.  I was still in need of a shower and a change of clothes.  

"Do you have a name, or do you only speak when you're angry in the morning?"  Asked the other.

"My name is Favian."

"Well I'm George and that's Fred."

"Cool."  I blinked and yawned.  I was still wearing my undershirt and torn jeans, which were beginning to chaff my skin.

"You came last night, didn't you, with Professor Dumbledore?"  George said.

"Oh… that's right."  Everything came back to me.  "Oh. That is right, isn't it?"

"Yes.  It is, isn't it?"  Fred imitated me.  

They were twins, I realized.  Identical in every way except for maybe one or two freckles.  I looked closer.  Only one or two.  

"Why is it you're here, Favian?"  George inquired.  "Like Casa Black?"

"I'm still not sure why."  

It was a half lie, but I certainly didn't want to discuss prior events with those two.

"FRED!  GEORGE!"  The door burst open and Mollie came in, apoplectic with rage.  "I told you NOT to DISTURB HER!"

"Sorry Mum, but we weren't getting much out of you.  We're not getting too much out of her either but at least we know her name now."  George said, standing quickly.

"She's HAD it ROUGH!  You two are going to have it ROUGHER if you don't GET OUT!"

"Get it George?"

"Got it Fred."

"Good."  And they disappeared with a pop.

"I'm sorry Favian dear, did they wake you?  I'm Mollie Weasley, by the way."

"Hi Mrs. Weasley."  I assumed she was a Mrs. because she seemed motherly.  "Thanks for letting me stay."

"Oh it's nothing dearie.  Would you like some breakfast?"

"Actually, that sounds great."  I admitted.  "But could I get a shower first?  If that's okay…."

"Oh that's fine!  I can imagine you'd like one.  Yes.  Let me get you some clothes.  You're taller than Ginny; maybe Hermione has something to lend you?  Let me show you to the bathroom then."  She led me down the stairs and into a bathroom that looked as though it had recently been cleaned.  Unlike the rest of the house it looked light and happy.  "Here's a towel and there's the shampoo and soap.  Take your time, there's no rush.  I will introduce you to people after breakfast, how does that sound?"

"That's sounds great, Mrs. Weasley."  I felt very warmly towards this woman.  

She left and I took a quick shower.  I hated being naked in an unfamiliar place, especially a place where there was magic.  Who knew what could be seen through the walls?  I wrapped the towel firmly around myself and wondered if I would have to put my old clothes back on.  There was a timid knock on the door.

"Who is it?"  I asked carefully.

"Hermione, Mrs. Weasley said you needed some clothes."

"Oh yeah, thanks."  

I opened the door and saw a girl with bushy brown hair.  She handed me some folded clothes.  I thanked her again.  After drying off the rest of the way I put on a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt.  The tee-shirt was kind of short on me.  I was embarrassed to see that it was because of my breasts that it ventured up to my navel.  My mother would've told me to put something longer on, but she wasn't there to say anything.  I felt my heart plummet again.  I breathed deeply for a couple of seconds before walking out with my towel and bundle of dirty clothes.  

Hermione had waited for me, engrossed in a book called "A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi."  I had a jolt of recognition.

"You garden too?"  I said happily.  Maybe I'd have something in common with her after all.

"Oh, no."  Hermione blushed, closing her book.  "This is for Potions class."

"Oh."  I looked down, embarrassed.  My wet hair hung loosely at my shoulders.

"You know, with magic you don't have to towel your hair dry.  Look."  She took out her wand.  "_Aridisio!_"   My hair was suddenly soft and dry.  

"Thanks."  I said in surprise.

"Technically I wasn't supposed to do that but Professor Dumbledore said that I'm allowed to use magic now outside of school in order to teach you."  Hermione gushed.  

"Oh.  I don't have a wand though."

"Mrs. Weasley will take you to Diagon Alley.  In the mean time you can use mine."  

"I'm going to put these on my bed, is that okay, d'you think?"

"Oh, no, give them to Mrs. Weasley; she'll wash them for you."

"Okay."  I looked around, half-hoping for a sign pointing me in the right direction.

"She's in the kitchen, come, I'll show you."  

The kitchen wasn't very cozy or nice and I felt bad for feeling that way as a guest in someone's home.  The house was spooky and dark and didn't look very clean overall.  Mrs. Weasley bustled around making scrambled eggs and toast.  I told her that she didn't need to do all that work but she waved my words away.  Soon I was presented with an enormous breakfast that I couldn't possibly have finished.

Hermione sat next to me and watched me eat.  It was rather disconcerting.  She didn't talk until I finished my eggs.  Mrs. Weasley came over and spooned out some more.  

"That's okay, really… I can't… oh… too late."  

"You need some food, I can see it."

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley, but really, I'm okay." 

"Nonsense."  She bustled away.

"It's futile."  Hermione smiled.

I stared at the mound of eggs I had received but instead ate my toast.  "I think that ought to do it."  I patted my stomach.  I took my dishes to the sink.  "Do you want these eggs, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Oh no, dear, just leave your dishes, I'll take care of them."

"Are you sure?"  I asked.  

"Of course.  Now you and Hermione scurry upstairs.  She can help you learn some wand work."

"Come on."  Hermione motioned for me to follow.  We went into our room and she pulled out a stack of books.  "I've kept all of my first, second, third, and fourth year books.  I never knew I'd be teaching someone.  I hope I'm okay."

"I'm sure you'll be fine."  I wasn't sure if I was talking to myself or Hermione.

"Let's begin with the basic motion.  Swish and flick.  You try."

I took her wand and replicated her hand motion.

"Excellent!"  We spent half an hour in that room going over many charms and spells.  She started teaching me transfiguration when a knock sounded on the door.  "Come in!"  Hermione said.

The door slowly opened.

"Why are you in your room in the middle of the day, Hermione?"  A red-haired boy poked his head inside.  "Oh!  Is this Favian?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about my looks.  How many zits I had right then I didn't know.  I had been very good about not looking in the mirror.  I only ever touched my face to wash it or apply lip gloss.  My fingers twitched, wanting to know what sort of acne had taken over my face.

"I'm Ron, and this is Harry."  Ron opened the door the rest of the way and admitted a skinny boy with black hair and an odd cut on his forehead.  

"Did you cut yourself?"  I asked.

"No."  Harry shook his head.

"Are you sure?  You have a scab on your forehead I think…."

"That's a scar."  Ron said.  "You-Know-Who and Harry Potter…."

"Who?"  I asked dumbly.  

"Oh Favian!  We haven't gotten to History yet!  Let me fill you in on everything."  She told me about a terrible man named Voldemort and how his name had once been Tom Marvolo Riddle, how he had tried, but failed, to kill Harry and had killed his parents.  

"You know," I said in the few moments' silence, "I know this is probably totally irrelevant but if you rearrange the letters in Tom Marvolo Riddle you get 'I am Lord Voldemort.'"

"Yes.  He told me that once."  Harry said quietly.

"Voldemort sounds like a real jerk."

"To put it lightly."  Ron agreed.  "But don't say the name."

"Let her say the name."  Snapped Harry.  

"Can he hear us?"  I asked, suddenly afraid.

"No."  Harry said.  "People are just weird sometimes."

"Okay."  

"Harry, do you think you could teach Favian some Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Me?"

"Well, of course.  I mean, you have come across them so many times." 

"I can hardly teach!"  Harry protested.

"Well neither can I but you should see how much she can do now!  I think her charm work is seriously at least fourth year level.  They're going to be putting her in different classes with different grades depending on how she does on the test McGonagall's giving her."

"She's giving me a test?"  My heart sank.  Tests always made me sweat and shake, especially when I didn't know what was going to be on it.

"Don't worry; it won't affect your grades!"  Hermione said brightly.

"But it will affect my years at Hogwarts."

"You have a natural gift already.  Ron and Harry didn't get these charms as fast as you did.  It took them weeks."

"Look, just because our minds wander a little in class doesn't mean you have to tell her we're idiots."  Ron was turning red.

"I didn't say you were idiots.  I simply said she's more talented than you, but that's not saying much I'm afraid."

"Ouch."  Said Harry.                      


	5. Letters

Disclaimer: I own only Favian and a few of the prior-mentioned paintings, but I will allow Ms. Rowling to take them if she so desires.  Which is unlikely.  

I appreciate the Nowhere Girl's reviews.  Thank you Nowhere Girl.  There is A Stupider Wish by my friend SnogginGodess (call her ex-Gimli,) we wrote parts of it together.  Eventually we intend to write The Stupidest Wish.  You shall see. 

Though I don't get too many reviews I still appreciate the few that I'm getting.  Sometimes I wonder if anyone's actually reading this.  I should've put "SEX" in the summary… probably more enthusiasm that way.  Alas, you just can't have everything in life.

Enjoy.

Ron and Harry opted to stay and help me with my learning.  Harry taught me the disarming spell, which took me four tries to master.  

"What else is there?"  Hermione asked Harry eagerly.

"Is there anything else?"

"Oh Harry-." 

"Give her this advice, Harry.  Favian, if you know what's good for you don't wander the streets alone at night and try to avoid You-Know-Who at all costs.  And if you do happen to run into him…."

"Pray that you make it out with all of your limbs and your freewill."  Harry smirked.

"How about I summon you?"  I asked.

"Ah, I'll just be doing what I said earlier."  Harry grinned.

"Well then."  They talked to me about werewolves and vampires for awhile.

"Vampires must make physical contact with the garlic for it to have any effect besides fear."  Hermione explained. 

"Oh damn!"  Ron snapped his fingers.  "I wrote my bloody paper wrong for Snape!  Luckily the…" Ron called him something that made Hermione cry out and say "Ron!" "-never got to collect it."

"You are so vulgar sometimes!"  Hermione was incredulous.

"What is Professor Snape like and what does he teach?"

"He's…."

"Shut up Ron!"  Hermione stopped him.  "He teaches Potions and is absolutely dreadful.  Favors Slytherins as they're in his House but takes points from all of the other Houses mercilessly."

"And he and my dad didn't get on well so he _really hates me."  Harry complained._

"I'll teach you some potions tomorrow, Favian, is that okay?"

"Yeah, that'd be good."

"Maybe we'll cover History of Magic of the next week as much as possible.  Herbology… I'll try to get to that but we may not have time before school starts." 

I shrugged.  "Don't worry about it.  I'm just glad you've taught me as much as you have."

"Are we getting our letter soon?"  Ron asked Hermione.

"I don't know.  Mrs. Weasley was talking about going to Diagon Alley for us while we cleaned… which we have to do by the way…."

Harry and Ron groaned.

"This house is awful, isn't it?"  Ron mumbled.  "Where's Ginny?  Anyone seen her lately?"

"She's with Fred and George."  Hermione answered.

"Oh jeez."  Ron shook his head, smiling slightly.  "I'd still like to find out where they got all that money from."

Harry colored slightly and diverted his gaze elsewhere.  Nobody else noticed that.  I thought he was obvious as hell but maybe he usually turned funny colors and looked anywhere but the focal points.  Call me crazy, but he knew something.  

A few days later I sat with Ron, Harry and Hermione on the boy's bedroom floor looking at Hermione's vast collection of complicated Potions' essays.  I hoped it would make more sense with the ingredients in front of me.  According to Ron and Harry, it was worse but Hermione rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue.  

"Letters!"  Mrs. Weasley said quietly.  "Oh, where are Fred, George and Ginny?"

"Coming!"  George shouted.

"George!"  Mrs. Weasley hissed.

I cringed as Mrs. Black, the painting behind the black curtain I had noticed, began her screeching.

"FILTHY CHILDREN!  DISGRACE TO THE WIZARDING NAME IN MY HOME!  WRETCHED SON SHOULD BE FLOGGED IF I HAD ANY SAY!"

"Ah!  SHUT UP MOTHER!"  A man with shaggy black hair forced the curtains shut.  I had met him on my second night at dinner.  He was rather quiet at first but was pretty nice to me.  Apparently he had been accused wrongly of murder some years ago and had been the first wizard to ever escape the wizard prison, Azkaban.  "I cannot WAIT to figure out how to rid myself of that mess."  Sirius Black jabbed a thumb at his mother's portrait. 

Ginny and Fred stood on the stairs with their fingers in their ears.  George was looking guilty by the head of the stairs.

"Come and get your letters then.  Quietly, _Fred and George._"

"Mum, that's unfair!  It was George, not me…."  Fred argued.

"Don't take that tone with me, get your bottom into this room right now and take your letter."  Mrs. Weasley looked down at the envelopes.  "There's one for you too, Favian, dear."

"Thanks."  I took the heavy yellow envelope uncertainly.  

_Dear Ms. Clark,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Unlike other fifteen year olds, though, we are unsure where to place you.  Because the American Ministry of Wizards failed to recognize you as a witch you are clearly behind in your studies but due to you age and excellent skills in muggle schooling we have decided to vary your classes' grade levels.  _

_Your booklists are incomplete at this point in time but all other materials are listed._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor M. McGonagall; Deputy Headmistress _

_Uniform:_

_1. _Three sets of plain work robes (black)__

2. _One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

3. _One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

4. _One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that your clothes should carry name tags_

_Course Books:_

_The Standard Book of Spells Summary Grades 1-5 __by Miranda Goshawk and Proe Crastinator_

_A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot__

_Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling__

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration__ by Emeric Switch  _

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi__ by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger__

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them __by Newt Scamander _

_Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard__

_Other Equipment:_

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

I goggled at my list and tried to figure out how much all of that would cost.  And then I tried to figure out how long I would have to work to pay that debt off.  It hadn't yet occurred to me that this school was going to cost money, and since I was legally dead at this point it would seem a little odd if I trudged up to a bank and demanded to make a withdrawal. 

I wasn't the only one goggling at my letter.  Ron seemed likely to topple over with shock.  Hermione squealed with delight, on the other hand.  Harry frowned and lifted an eyebrow, clearly as in the dark as I was.

"I'm a prefect!"  Hermione started out loud but lowered her voice immediately, remembering the weird screaming painting.  "I'm a prefect!"

"What else did you expect?"  Fred snorted.  

Hermione ignored him.  "Are you Harry?"

"No.  I had forgotten about prefects to be perfectly honest."

Ron squeaked.

"What is it Ron?"  George asked.  "Something trying to come out of your throat?"

"I'm… I'm…."

"Spit it out then.  It clearly wants to go."

"I'm prefect."

"NO WAY!"  Fred, George, Ginny and Hermione chimed.  Harry and I stood there without making any noise.  I didn't know what a prefect was, for starters, though I suspected it was something European and not just wizardly.  

"Are you sure?"  Ginny asked, inching over to read Ron's letter from over his shoulder.

"Is it real or is it a joke?"  Fred asked.

"It looks real.  Hermione, let's look at yours."

Apparently the two letters were identical.  

"Ickle Ronniekins is a prefect!"  George grinned, pinching Ron's cheek.

"Shut up."  Mumbled Ron, turning a deep shade of red.  

"What's in your letter, Favian?"  Hermione asked.  

I handed the parchment to her.  She nodded and returned it to me.

"Well, we'll just be leaving our ickle prefect fwends now.  We've got some work to be getting on with.  Speaking of which…."  Fred cleared his throat.  "Favian, would you be interested in helping us with our work?"

I looked at Ginny who had been said to have been helping them earlier.  She shook her head violently.

"I think… I'm not sure.  What would I be doing?"  I didn't want to make it seem like I was insulting them by saying no.

"Testing."  Fred and George said together.  

"Beneficial to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."  Fred winked.

"We'd be glad to give you a special discount if you'd help us."

"I'll consider."  I lied.  There was not a chance in the world that I'd be testing anything for them.  I'd seen what their wonderful candies could do.  Puking pasties, churlish chocolates, giggly gumdrops, it just wasn't good.

"Have it your way."  With a popping noise the twins disappeared.

"I strongly recommend that you don't."  Ginny burst out.  

"Oh, don't worry, there wasn't a chance anyway." 

"You don't need to be so polite all the time," Ginny said, "they won't snap at you if you're not.  I mean… look at _them_."

I shrugged.

Mrs. Weasley came in a few seconds later.

"I'll take your letters and buy your things in Diagon Alley… oh, Favian you come with me dear.  You have a lot to get, I suspect."

I nodded.

"Come then, we're traveling by floo."        


	6. Robes

A/N: I don't need to bother with the disclaimer because JK Rowling is so well-known at this point that everyone is aware that some little idiot called Kate isn't the owner of Harry Potter.  

Caitlin: thanks for your support.

Sarah: your support frightens me, but I'll deal with it, as always.

Everyone else: if you're not reviewing then I don't love you as much as I would.

Flourish and Blotts was our arrival point.  It was so chalk-full of books that I thought I had stepped into the wizard's Barnes and Nobles.  In a sense I really had.  Mrs. Weasley didn't stay for long.  She informed me that we had to go to the bank first.  Gringotts, it was called.

I felt my face go hot.  "Mrs. Weasley, I… I don't think I have any money."

"Of course you do."  She said, pulling Favian out of the book shop and onto a cobbled street.  "Do you think Dumbledore wouldn't take care of you?"

"Well, I didn't really… how?"

"He transferred your parent's bank accounts to yours, dear."  She said delicately.

"Oh."  I was dazed, not just by the sudden information but the busy street and the vast array of stores.  We didn't stop in any of them, to my sheer disappointment.  I was too shy to ask if we could.  We went to a tall building on the other side of Diagon Alley.  

Gringotts was run by goblins, dangerously smart looking creatures with long noses and fingers.  Their heights didn't exceed my shoulder.  Their beady eyes surveyed my muggle clothing.  I felt trashy in Hermione's shirt because of how it bobbed at navel height.  I pulled down nervously to no avail.  Mrs. Weasley took out four keys and handed me one.

"This is the key to your account.  Don't lose it."

I swallowed hard.  It was small and I was very bad at keeping track of things, especially small things.  I nodded anyway.

A goblin called Rarthnix took us on a wild cart ride to our accounts.  First we stopped at Harry's, whose vault was so full of gold, silver and bronze that I thought he must be the richest wizard in the world, or else all wizards had heaps of treasure.  Hermione's vault had a sizeable mound but the Weasley's had so little that I felt terrible.  They had been taking care of me and could barely afford to send their children to school.  My vault contained what must've been my parents' entire life's savings.  My face glowed in embarrassment.  

"These are called Galleons, these are Sickles and these are Knuts."  Mrs. Weasley explained as we left, holding each coin up for me for me to look at.  "Twenty-nine knuts to a sickle and 17 sickles to a galleon."

"Odd numbers."  I said quietly.

Mrs. Weasley smiled.  "It's all relative to value, Favian.  Now what shall we do?  Tell you what, I'll go and buy your books while you're at Madam Malkin's."

I nodded numbly, wondering who she was talking about.  Mrs. Weasley guided me to a shop labeled in fancy purple lettering Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.  Well, that made sense.  Mrs. Weasley led me in and left me with a middle-aged woman (interestingly enough, her name was Madam Malkin.)

"I don't recall seeing you here."  She said, looking me up and down.  "And I think I would remember you."

"No, this is my first time here."

"Is it your first year in Hogwarts?  You look older than eleven… I'd have guessed sixteen…."

"Fifteen.  Yes, it's my first year at Hogwarts."  

"But you're an American!  How fascinating!  What school do you come from?"

"I come from a muggle school."  I admitted.

"Oh."  She seemed vaguely disappointed but asked no more as she began to take measurements.  "What's your name?"  She asked genially.

"I'm Favian.  Favian Clark."

"That's a lovely name.  Do you have a middle name?"  She continued, measuring my height.

"Yes."  But in my opinion my middle name was even weirder than my first.

"Do share?"  Madam Malkin smiled encouragingly.

"Oh, it's Fynn."

"Favian Fynn Clark."  She tested.  "I like it.

"You can take it then."  

"Haha!  Oh dear, you are a real character.  All right, hold on for a moment."  Madam Malkin bustled away, muttering the measurements to herself.  I was left alone in a room with three full-length mirrors that I cautiously did not look in.  I saw only my feet and looked away hurriedly.  The door opened and a tall black boy and a dark-haired lad walked in talking together.

"Mum says if I keep growing she's going to cut me legs off.  Sometimes I wonder if she is crazy or… well, crazy."  The dark-haired boy had an Irish accent.  I loved accents.  That had been the one major plus to moving to the United Kingdom.  My mom had always told me that men with accents were so much sexier and that I should've been pleased to be plopped in the middle of them.  I felt as though I had deflated upon thinking about her.  I closed my eyes for a moment and let the feelings subside.

"If your mum's crazy then my mum is a psychiatric miracle."  The black boy moaned.

"Dean, your mum is cool even if she thinks Quidditch is second to soccer.  At least she doesn't obsess over what the Daily Prophet rambles about."  

"Don't even mention anything at school, Seamus.  Harry is our friend."  Dean muttered. 

"Yeah."  Seamus bit his lip and leaned against the counter.  I watched from the other room.  "Where is Madam Malkin, anyway?"

"She's got other customers you prat." 

"Is anyone in there right now, you reckon?"  Seamus began walking towards the door.  I had backed into a wall and was sincerely wishing that I didn't look like a dumpy freak.  I fought the urge to look in the mirror.

"Well?"

"Not that I can see."  Seamus was looking straight into the room but I had managed to make myself unnoticeable in a shadow.  He slowly turned his head in my direction.  I wanted to look sort of natural so I leaned against the wall and stared blankly at the wall opposite me.  "Oops.  There is."  He turned a bit pink at the ears and cheeks.  He left the room and muttered to Dean.

"I've never seen that girl at Hogwarts before."

"She could be a first year."  Dean offered.

"No way could she be a first year.  She's about fifteen or sixteen."

"Maybe fourteen?"

"Maybe, but I'd have seen her before."  Seamus said fervently.  How bad was my acne?  My fingers stopped inches from my face.

_I've got to know!_

_No, no, no!  It will only make you more self-conscious!_

I scrunched my eyes.  It didn't matter, zits were trivial, and unless I had become reminiscent of a leper I shouldn't have had to worry.

"I'll look."  Dean said.

"Don't!  I mean… won't that look stupid?"  Seamus whispered loudly.  

"No.  Obviously we just want to place her."  I heard Dean come to the door and poke his head around.  "Hello.  Who are you?"  

"Favian."  I said, feeling warm in the face.  I don't think he could see my blush because I was in a shadow. 

"I don't think we've met."

"I know we haven't."  I smiled.

"Ah, well then.  I'm Dean, and that lad back there is Seamus."  Dean jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.  "What grade are you in?"

"I don't know yet.  Professor McGonagall said my classes would vary in grade level."

"Why?"  Dean asked slowly.

"It's my first year at a wizarding school."

"Don't they have them in America?"  He had obviously placed my accent.

"I guess so.  I don't know what happened."  I shrugged.

"Oh well."

"All right, Favian Fynn!  Your robes will be ready tomorrow!"

"Thanks."  I smiled, wishing she hadn't used my middle name.  I started to leave.

"I guess we'll see you at Hogwarts!"  Seamus called after me.

"Yeah… see you!"  I ran out of the shop, both embarrassed and giddy.  I kept meeting people that were friendly.  I hoped they were all this way.     

(A/N: as we know, not everyone is this friendly.  Hint, hint, wink, wink, cough.)


	7. Wand and VoicingUp

Caitlin: ha-ha, I enjoyed your last review very much.

Sarah: Fred and Favian are going to get married, just so I can annoy you.

Moril: whoever ends up with Favian is, of course, based on you.

"Let's see, I think that's it."  Mrs. Weasley looked at everything checking it against the list.

"No."  I disagreed.  "I still need a wand."

"Of course.  I always forget that!  Come now, Olivander's is the place to go."

Inside the shop a bell tinkled upon our arrival.  Behind the counter was an elderly man with piercing blue eyes, writing scrupulously in a notebook.

"Ah, hello."  He looked up and smiled.  "Mollie, good to see you.  I didn't expect to be seeing you for quite some time!  But who is this young lady?  I have never seen her before."  He came around from behind his desk and looked at me carefully, trying to recognize me.

"This is Favian."  Mrs. Weasley introduced me.  "Favian, meet Mr. Olivander."

"Hi."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."  He smiled sincerely at me.  "Let's get your measurements, shall we?"

"I guess so."  

He pulled out a tape measure and it began to, on its own, might I add, measure me from all different angles.  Mr. Olivander paid close attention then said "That will do."  He walked back to the shelves and pulled down six boxes for me to test.

"Right, here's phoenix tail feather, seven and a half inches, maple."  He handed the wand to me.  It looked nice.  

"You're supposed to wave it, dear."  Mrs. Weasley said.

"Oh."  I waved it about, practicing the swish and flick motion that Hermione had taught me.

"No, no, no."  The old man snatched the wand away.  "Try this one.  Dragon heart string, eleven inches, oak."

I took it and once again did the motion that Hermione had me practice.  Once again Mr. Olivander shook his head.

"Willow, thirteen inches, unicorn hair."

Apparently this wand didn't like me either.  "Oh bugger, we'll have to keep trying then!"  The man smiled at me and took a wand and just handed it to me without telling me what it was made of.  It was a white wood, very pretty and I felt a sort of tingling in my fingers as I waved it.  Silver and gold sparks shot out of the end and I was afraid that I had done something very wrong.

"Excellent!"  Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands together.

"Well there's something interesting."  Mr. Olivander read the box label.  "I've had this wand for over twenty years now."

"Is that unusual?"  I asked, staring at my wand.

"Yes.  Usually wands are created about the time that the wizard is born and you, my dear, are about fifteen."

"That's right."  I looked at him curiously.  

"The wand is made of birch and is nine inches long.  The creature, rather creatures, involved in making this wand are a re'em, a sphinx, and a centaur.  A hair from each tied together and becoming a singular strand."

"What's a re'em?"  I asked.

"An extremely rare giant ox with golden hide.  Drinking its blood will give great strength.  It's found mostly in North America." 

"Oh.  So… is it just rare to use three hairs?"

"That's not it.  Of course, you are correct, but also the sphinx and centaur were adamant that their hairs join together with that of a re'em.  I remember this.  I had been following a unicorn when a centaur came upon me along with a sphinx.  I was frightened, as you may imagine, but they insisted that I take the three hairs that they offered.  I didn't think the wand would ever find an owner, but I was clearly mistaken."

"Why did they want you to make a wand?"

"That," he said, "is the true mystery."

Mrs. Weasley and I were heading back to Flourish and Blotts.  A very fair-haired family was standing outside the entrance speaking to a short and vibrant little man.  

"Cornelius, I would be quite happy to discuss this at your office."

"Thank you, Lucius.  It is good to see you again.  I'd best be off."  The little man named Cornelius turned and saw Mrs. Weasley.  "Oh, Mollie, hello.  What are you doing here?  Buying school things, I suppose?"

"Yes, Minister."  She said coolly.

"Excellent, excellent."  He looked at me.  "I don't recognize this one.  I thought all of yours had red hair."

"They do, this is Favian.  She's staying with my family."

"Oh?  Whatever for?"

Mrs. Weasley looked as though she would prefer not to discuss it with him.  Lucius and his pale-haired family stood watching us, listening intently.  I noticed that the boy had two books in his arms.  I recognized the titles from Hermione's letter.  He must've been a fifth year too.  I smiled at him, trying to be friendly.  His smile was so smug and too reminiscent of a smirk to make me feel comfortable.  Maybe a zit had just sprouted on my nose.  

"Her parents have died recently, Minister.  We must be going now."

"All right then.  I suppose I'll see you later."  The Minister Cornelius bustled off, acting important.  I didn't really like him; there was an air of arrogance around him.

"Come on Favian."  Mrs. Weasley nudged me towards the shop.

"Don't you already have enough children without taking more on?"  Lucius asked.  "What with funds being so tight and all."

The boy snickered.

Mrs. Weasley kept her mouth tightly shut and continued forward.

"Who-?"  I started.

"The Malfoys.  A rich family.  Not nice.  Come on."

We returned to Number 12 Grimmauld Place and Ron was waiting by the fireplace, picking his prefect badge up and setting it down absent-mindedly.  Harry sat by him reading _Flying with the Cannons,_ a copy that was so bent up that it had clearly been read a lot.  He didn't seem very focused as I stepped through the flames.

"A prefect!?  Oh Ron!  We must celebrate!  I'm sooo happy!"  Mrs. Weasley wrapped her arms around Ron and squeezed him for a long time.  Harry was frowning slightly but whenever Ron looked over he plastered a grin to his face.  Mrs. Weasley dragged Ron downstairs so that he could tell Mr. Weasley.  Harry said he'd be right down to help celebrate Hermione and Ron's victory.  He watched them leave and I stood silently to the side, watching him, clutching my things in my arms.  Harry sighed and slumped in his chair.

"Must be an interesting book."  I said, breaking his quiet.  He stiffened and whipped his head up to face me.

"Oh, yeah… it is."  He looked at his book.  "Ever read it?"

"No."

"You should.  You can borrow mine sometime, if you'd like."

"That'd be great."  I smiled what I hoped was a genuine smile.  I didn't think he was reading because he was engrossed but rather trying to avoid something else.  "Are you okay?"  I asked carefully.

"Yeah, of course."

"Okay, let me try again, what's wrong?"  I sat down with a pile of books in my lap.

"Am I that obvious?"  He seemed taken aback.  

"To me."  I nodded.

"I'm kind of pissed, to be honest."

I frowned.  "Why?"

"Hermione and Ron… spending all summer here and not telling me _anything_…."

"Well, that wasn't really their fault.  Professor Dumbledore wouldn't allow them to tell you."

"That's another thing!  Why does he suddenly treat me like a… a… child?!"  

"I guess he's not being fair really.  Maybe there's some good reason for it… I mean, he's a reasonable guy."

"_I'm _the one who Voldemort wants to kill!  Whose parents have been killed!  Who nearly _got killed and he still thinks that I should be sheltered from… THE TRUTH!"  Harry looked on the verge of yelling.  "And… I know this will sound incredibly stupid but… now he's made Ron prefect and I can't figure out why… why it wasn't me!"_

I thought for a minute.  I understood how he must've felt.  "Probably because… well, you might not want to hear this, actually."

"Shoot."  Harry waved a hand at me.

"Ron's never really been… famous like you.  Maybe since you and Ron got about the same academically he chose Ron.  You've got a lot to deal with this year too.  From what I've heard from Mrs. Weasley it's not easy work."

"Yeah… just Dumbledore hasn't talked to me at all.  I can't figure it out.  Even at the trial he wouldn't… _look at me."_

I frowned.  "That's weird."  I agreed.  "But there may yet be a reason."

"God, I hope so."  Harry exhaled.  "You know what?  I'm going to be happy for Ron."

I smiled. 

"Thanks, Favian."  

I began to stand, depositing some books into my cauldron.  "Don't worry about it."

"You need some help with that?"

"I wouldn't mind."  I admitted.  Harry helped me deposit my books into my room and we went downstairs.  Everyone was downstairs decorating for a prefect party.  Mrs. Weasley procured a lot of food and a beaming face.  Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody were all there with the Weasley family and Hermione and me, of course.  

Harry was in a relatively good mood for the rest of the evening.  I felt glad to know that I had helped him.  


	8. Sorted

I absent-mindedly pet the black dog at Platform 9 ¾.  Sure, I knew it was Sirius but I loved petting dogs.  Harry, Ron and Hermione were smiling as they watched me, trying to suppress laughter.  

"Snuffles!  Come!"  Ron teased.  But Sirius just wagged his tail happily and nudged me forward to the train.  I was wearing my robes onto the train.  Ron and Hermione had as well because they were prefects.  Ginny and Harry had only done the same because everyone else had.  I had just been afraid that I would look even more muggle if I wore my muggle clothes.  I didn't have any idea what my robes looked like on me.  Hermione said I looked nice, but I think she just had thought that I looked like a skank wearing her shirts rising to navel level.  Secretly I agreed with her unspoken beliefs.  

"Now you be careful this year."  Moody growled.  He had been slow to trust me.  I didn't mind.  "Don't do anything stupid."

"Avoid fun at all costs."  Tonks said, winking a brown eye that had been green earlier.  I loved watching her transform.  It was amazing.

I followed Ginny and Harry down the aisle, looking for a compartment.  Ron and Hermione had gone to the prefect's compartment.  A round-faced boy joined up with us, smiling warmly at us.

"Hello, Harry!  Ginny!  Er…."

"Favian."  I supplied.

"I'm Neville."  He said cheerfully, turning slightly pink at the neck.  

Every compartment was full or near it.  People acted very bizarrely when we walked by.  Harry was steadily turning a deeper shade of red.

"They're all full!"  Neville said aghast.  "Well, almost full anyway."

"Oh, here's one.  Old Looney Lovegood is all alone."  Ginny looked in.

"Who?"

"A girl in my year."  

I followed Ginny into the compartment and saw a girl with bulging gray eyes that rivaled mine.  _I will never complain about my eyes again._  She was reading a magazine, upside-down.  

"Hi Luna!"  Ginny said sweetly.  Apparently Ginny didn't like her too much, or thought she was bizarre.  And she was.

"Hello."  She looked around at us.  "You're Harry Potter."  She said flatly.

"Er… yes, I am."

She stared at him with her incredibly wide eyes. 

We sat in silence, broken only by Ginny resisting her oncoming laughter.  

"Look, Harry!  Look what Gran got me!"  Neville pulled out a cactus.  I couldn't imagine why someone would get worked up over something like that.  He said it was the mimble-wooty or something along those lines.  He poked it and I ducked as black, foul-smelling ink issued from the plant and covered the compartment.

Harry removed his glasses and Neville spat some of the goo onto the floor.

"Well, that's never happened before."  Neville said brightly.

"I didn't think so."  I said, sitting up slowly.  Ginny was laughing, doubled up on the floor.  

Neville blushed.  Then the door opened and an Asian girl stepped in.  She was very pretty and reminded me strongly of one of my best friends, only because of her quiet demeanor and looks.  My friend's name was Ming, but sometimes we called her Mingalingadoodong.  Mostly people making fun of her though.  People liked making fun of my crowd; it was just the thing to do.

"Oh… sorry, Harry."  The girl started leaving.

"Hey, Cho.  Sorry about the… mess."  

"Just thought I'd stop by and say hi."

"Oh."  I sensed Harry was blushing.

"See you."  Cho left.

"Bye."  Harry said softly to no one.

"Okay, let's clean this mess up."  Ginny said.

"How?"  Neville said desperately.

"_Scourge!_"  I waved my wand and the compartment was immediately clean.  "Oh yay."

Ginny grinned.

"Oh."  Neville gaped.  "Of course."

About a half hour went by before Ron and Hermione joined us.  

"Just giving us the passwords and shifts.  It's a lot of work being a prefect!"  Ron said excitedly.  I smiled for him.

"Yes, it's a big responsibility."  Hermione agreed. 

The door opened again and this time the pale-haired boy I had seen at Flourish and Blotts was there, flanked by two enormous lads with the thickest necks I had ever seen.  He was puffing his chest out and flaunting a shiny prefect badge.

"That's right, Potter.  Prefect."  He smirked.

"Go away, Malfoy."  Ron said.

"Can't make me, Weasley.  We're both prefects."  Malfoy turned his cold gaze to rest on me.  "Ooh, what company you keep, Potter.  Mudbloods, the Weasleys, and some American slut."

My mouth dropped open.  

"Eat dung, Malfoy."  Harry clenched his fists.

"I suppose she's your new favorite whore?  I don't blame you.  She _is _pretty."  He laughed.  I was sure he was making a crack at my acne.  I resolved to check the mirror at school and break my three-month-mirrorless record.  "I hear it's easy to get laid in America.  Is that true?"

"For you, impossible.  Unless you're in jail with a bunch of horny inmates."  I snapped.

Malfoy turned pink.  Ginny, Ron, and Harry were beside themselves with laughter.

"You'd best be careful."  Malfoy narrowed his eyes at me.  "If you know what's good for you'll be polite."

"I am, but only to deserving people."  One of the thick-necked freaks by his side cracked his knuckles.  I turned to him.  "Are you going to hit me?"

"Come on, Crabbe, Goyle."  And they left.

Though I had seemingly won whatever battle I was still fuming.

"Why does he _do _that?!"  I asked Hermione, who was the only one not laughing.  

"Oh, that's just Malfoy.  It's the way he is."  Hermione sniffed.  

"I will never, ever forget that.  Malfoy in a cell with… ooh, I love it!"  Ron gasped. 

"Who are you?"  Luna asked, finally speaking.

"I'm Favian."

"That's a boy's name.  I have an uncle named Favian."

"It sounds better for a girl."  Ginny said in my defense.  

"My uncle would probably agree.  He is gay, after all."

Harry and Ron stared at Luna in fixed amazement.  She went back to reading her magazine. 

"First years!  Come with me!"  Called Professor Grubbly-Plank.  I didn't know where to go.  I stood, torn between following Hermione and going to the waiting boats.  I hurried up to the teacher and introduced myself quickly, asking her where I should go.  "Oh, it's you, is it?  Minerva told me about you.  Take the boat with me, we need to talk."

I sat in a canoe with her as the other silent first years sat in their own.  The boats started moving of seemingly their own accord.

"Favian, Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore thought it wise to change your last name in case muggles were to somehow hear about you.  They're using your middle name.  You are Favian Fynn now, that's what you'll react to during the sorting."

I had completely forgotten about the sorting.  I wondered what House the hat would place me in.  As long as it wasn't the one that Malfoy was in I didn't care which one it was.  I sort of wanted to share one with Ginny and Hermione because I knew them.

It wasn't my first time seeing the castle, but at night it was astounding.  Once again I found myself standing in a hallway with whispering paintings.  Abigail and Mendague waved to me and I smiled back, not wanting to draw more attention to myself.  The first years were all shorter than me and I stood out fairly well.  Lucky for me they were all so tongue-tied with fear.  

Professor McGonagall strode in and said something about the Houses and House-points.  I didn't catch it all because I was so nervous.  

"In a few moments you will enter the Great Hall with your classmates.  After you are sorted you will sit with your Houses at dinner and all future meal-times."  Professor McGonagall surveyed the trembling first years with tight lips then left the room.  

"Are you a first year?"  A boy behind me blurted. 

"Not really."  I admitted.  "But I need to be sorted."

"Oh.  What are the schools in America like?"

I shrugged.  "They're okay."  I realized he was talking about wizarding schools.  Instead of correcting myself I decided to let him think otherwise.  

The doors to the Great Hall opened slowly and we were led in.

The sky was the ceiling, starry and magnificent.  I felt my breath taken away.  Hermione had lent me _Hogwarts, a History but I had only skimmed.  I vaguely remembered something mentioned about an enchanted ceiling._

A rather unremarkable hat sat on a stool and the entire student body was focused on it.  I half expected it to start flying around and bonking the students into chairs.  Instead it broke into song. 

(A/N: I don't want to write the song out, if you have the fifth book it's on pages 204-206)

The Great Hall was silent and people clapped uncertainly.  It sounded like House rivalry was getting to the hat.  From what I had heard it was mostly everyone against Slytherin.  At the Slytherin table sat Malfoy and his enormous bodyguard-friends.  They didn't look like the happiest bunch in the world.  Far from, they were smirking rather unpleasantly, constantly.  Malfoy sat next to an unattractive pug-faced girl.  _Probably his girlfriend.  She was probably a twerp.  _

"Abercrombie, Euan."  McGonagall called loudly.  The boy stumbled up to the hat and put it on before it shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"  The table exploded in applause.  I was used to being one of the first to go but McGonagall went through the C's without saying my name.  I couldn't figure it out.  

_Fynn, oh.  I thought.  A girl behind me with pigtails smiled shakily at me.  While the Ravenclaw table clapped she said "I have a Z last name, I'm always last."_

"What's your name?"

"Rose.  What's yours?"

"Favian."

"I like that."  

"Thanks."  The Ravenclaws quieted and we shut up.

"Farley, Michael."  Became a Hufflepuff. And "Fee, Danny."  Became one too.

"Fynn, Favian."  I didn't move at first but Rose nudged me.  I walked forward slowly, ignoring as best I could the whispers around me.  I was obviously not a first year.  Hermione smiled encouragingly at me and Ginny grinned.  Fred and George blew kisses, which sent me walking even faster.  I sat down on the stool, fearing I would fall off and send the room into helpless laughter.  McGonagall, before dropping the hat on my head, whispered to me.

"Tomorrow the other students will be receiving their schedules but you'll spend all day testing in different areas."  And the hat dropped over my eyes.  My sweaty fingers grasped the seat tightly.

Hello Favian. The hat said to me.

Hi. I tried to be cordial.  I liked your song, it was good. 

Thank you.  Now let me see… ooh, I'm sorry that you came here under such circumstances.  You were brave to do some of these things, incredibly brave, yes.  Sympathetic too.  I see you don't sit around and cry for yourself. 

I want to sometimes. I admitted.

The hat chuckled.  That's only natural.  Hm, quite a mind you have!  _Very intelligent.  I see you've read your books, excellent.  Excellent.  You're also a diligent worker. _

What House does that put me in?  

Difficult.  You're clearly somewhat ambitious but not nearly ambitious enough for Slytherin.  So that leaves it to three… let me think.  

I sat quietly and stared into the blackness of the hat.  

Definitely.  I've got it.  

"GRYFFINDOR!"  It shouted.  Silently I thanked it before taking it off.  Fred and George were whistling.  I smiled and blushed.  Fred and George scooted over to let me sit between them.  They had a black boy their age sitting next to George.  He was introduced to me as Lee Jordan.  

The sorting ended with Rose Zeller, the girl who had spoken to me in line.  McGonagall took the stool and hat away as Professor Dumbledore stood.

"To our newcomers, welcome!  To our old hands, welcome back!  There is a time for speech making, but this is not one of them.  Tuck in!"

Everyone laughed.  Ron clapped his hands together as food appeared.  I found that I was quite hungry too.  

"Excellent."  Ron grinned.  

I looked down the table and saw Dean and Seamus from Madam Malkin's.  They were watching me.  I hadn't seen them before.  I smiled and said hello.  They greeted me as well.  Then we were all gone behind a mound of food.


	9. Testing

"Look, there's an extra bed in here!"  A girl said.  

"Yes, there are five, odd."  Another agreed.

Hermione and I walked in.  Both girls were very pretty and gave Hermione a somewhat disgruntled look as if to say "oh, you."

"That's Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil."  She said quickly pointing them out.  I smiled at them.  They forced smiles onto their faces and looked me up and down.  "Eloise Midgen… where is she?"

"In the bathroom still."  Parvati said dismissively.  "Where are you from?"  She asked me.

"America."  I said softly.

Lavender and Parvati exchanged sideways glances.

"Oh come on, you don't honestly _believe those silly stereotypes, do you?"  Hermione snapped.  _

They blushed and said no.  A few minutes later a girl with a rather… strange face walked in.  I couldn't figure it out at first but after talking to her for awhile I noticed that her nose was off-center.  Eloise was very nice to me and I liked her immediately.

"Do you reckon Potter is mad or just trying to get attention?"  Lavender asked calmly.

"_What?_"  Hermione and I chimed.

"Oh really, do you believe that nonsense about You-Know-Who?  He's obviously just trying to get some more attention."

"Obviously you believe Harry's story."  I said quietly.  "Or you wouldn't be afraid to use Voldemort's real name."

Everyone stared at me.

"Just leave Harry alone, Lavender, you don't know what you're talking about."  Hermione hissed after a moment.

"Standing up for your boyfriend, Granger?"  She said snidely.

"No, just a really good friend."  Hermione said coolly.

"One of the few."

"That was unnecessary."  I toned softly.

I had changed into my pajamas and was watching them shooting daggers from their eyes at one another.  Eloise sat calmly off to the side writing in what must've been her diary.  Parvati sat on her bed and watched Lavender quietly.  

"I think people here must be more than a little tired."  I shook my head.  "At least I hope you're not always like this."

Lavender's head snapped to glare at me.  Parvati bit her lip and said nothing.  

"I'm going to sleep."  Eloise said.  "Night."  And she went under her covers.

"Good idea."  Hermione said.  

"Goodnight."  I said.

I trudged to the bathroom in the morning.  I was armed with a hairbrush, ready to take on my head with the help of the mirror for the first time in months.  After splashing my face and drying off I was awake and ready to look.  I scrunched my eyes shut instead of looking.  

"Come on, do it."  I muttered.  Slowly, my eyes opened and I prepared myself for the land of red dots.  

"Does it always take you this long to look into a mirror?"  Eloise asked, yawning.

"Um, no, but I haven't looked in months."

"Really?  Damn, if I looked like you I'd be looking _all_ the time."

I frowned.  It didn't _sound _like sarcasm.  I took a deep breath.  And looked.  

There was not a single zit on my face.  I gasped and touched it happily.

"I'm acne free!"  I whooped.

"I cursed my acne off last year."  Eloise said, half-heartedly.  "You got off easy."

I smiled at my reflection and realized that, for the first time, I didn't look that bad.  My large, blue eyes weren't that big really, but if I ever widened them I did look like a begging dog.  Urgh.  I ran a brush through my red-brown hair until it was snag-free.  Eloise and I walked down to the Common Room together.  She showed me down to the Great Hall because I didn't know the way for beans.  

Hermione, Ron and Harry were deep in conversation about something and I thought it best not to disturb them.  I waved to Hermione when she looked. She smiled warmly at me before going back to her discussion.  Eloise took a seat next to Ginny.  I sat across from her and ate some porridge.  Then I remembered that I had my test today.  No longer was I hungry.  I pushed the bowl away, feeling the start of nausea.

"Morning Favian."  Ginny said kindly. 

"Hey Ginny."

She stifled a yawn just as Dean and Seamus came over to sit with us.  

"Hi."  Dean said, sitting on my right.  Seamus sat next to Ginny, across from Dean.  

"Hi."  I repeated, smiling at him.  I felt confident for the first time in my life, knowing that I was no longer acne-queen.

Professor McGonagall was going down the table handing out schedules.  

"Favian, come to my office after breakfast.  Ms. Granger will show you the way."  And she continued.  

"You're in trouble already?"  Seamus asked, awe-struck.

"Of course not, you dummy."  Ginny said.  "She has to take a test."

"Why?"

"Oh yeah!  You've never been to wizard school."  Dean grinned.  "I'm muggle-born too."

"I'm half and half."  Seamus boasted.  "Me mum's a witch and me dad's a muggle."

"What are you doing in the UK anyway?"

"My dad got a job in England."

"What does he do?"  Seamus asked.

"He used to be a pathologist, a doctor."  I said quietly.

"Why'd he stop?"  Seamus stuffed bacon into his mouth.

"Plane crash."  I muttered.

"I'm sorry."  Dean looked down and Seamus stopped chewing momentarily.

"It's all right."  I shrugged.  "At least I got to say good bye."  I felt sadness grip my lungs but I smiled anyway, to show that I wasn't offended.

"You should really eat something."  Ginny said, pushing my porridge back towards me.  "You don't want to test on an empty stomach."

"If I throw up all over my test I don't think that'd be much better."

"Do you honestly believe you'll throw up?"  Eloise rolled her eyes at me.

"I'm not sure enough to test it."

"You're a smart person, Favian.  I've watched you learn things in weeks that took the rest of us months to learn.  You'll probably be in third or maybe even fourth year."

"How do you know Favian?"  Eloise asked Ginny, buttering a muffin and looking over her schedule.

"She came to stay at my house for the summer."  Ginny said smoothly, looking at her own schedule.  "Ooh, good.  Transfiguration and Herbology with the Ravenclaws."

"Why is that good?"  I asked.  

"My boyfriend's a Ravenclaw."  She said coolly.  I smiled a bit. 

"Do your brothers know that you have a boyfriend?"

"Of course not.  You honestly think I'd tell them anything?"

"I guess not."  I laughed.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"  Eloise asked me.

"No, I only just arrived."  

"How about back in the States?  Oh, shit.  Sorry.  I have Potions with the Slytherins again.  I _hate Pansy.  God, she is the pits.  Well, do you?" _

"No."  I admitted shrugging.  

"Hm."  Eloise continued studying her schedule.  "Study of Ancient Runes with the Hufflepuffs and Arithmancy with the Ravenclaws.  Well, that will give me a chance to talk to Terry."

"Does everyone in Gryffindor have a boyfriend in Ravenclaw?"  I half-joked.

"Haha!  Oh no, no, no.  Terry is my cousin."  Eloise laughed.  "I went to his house this summer and left my Arithmancy book there.  I don't know if he brought it or not."

"Oh."  I grinned.  "Well, I'm glad to hear there's no incest in your family."

"Georgie dearest, somebody's complaining about incest, like it's a _bad_ thing!"

"Freddy-poo, that's terrible!  Wherever shall we hide from such hate-mongers?"  Behind me the Weasley twins stood, grinning broadly.

"Hi Fred, hey George."  

"Do we get kisses too?"  Fred pointed to his cheek.

"Maybe some other day."  

"Aw, but our days will be ruined if we don't get a kissie-wissie."  George pouted.

Hermione stood up with Ron and Harry.  They continued walking towards the Common Room.  I was afraid of losing her so I stood to chase after her.

"I have to go.  Talk to you later."  I turned to Dean, Seamus, Ginny and Eloise and said a quick goodbye before hurrying to catch up with Hermione.

I ran down the hallway, and was already lost.

"Oh _merde._"  I cursed in French and looked around wildly.  If I was late for my test I was so screwed.  

"Well, well, well, if it isn't our little American friend."  Malfoy stood there with his two large chums.

"Since when have I been your friend?"  I snapped.  "I thought you made it very clear that you didn't like me from the off."

Malfoy smirked.  Crabbe and Goyle, his apparent bodyguards, chortled.

"You might choose to be more careful, if you knew how much power I really held."

I snorted.  "That's a weird thing to say."  I was looking around for some kind of marker to show where I was. 

"You started on the wrong side, Favian Fynn, but the Dark Lord will be coming for you."  He whispered harshly.  I jumped back because he was suddenly right up close to me.

"Favian?"  Hermione called down the hall.  "Professor McGonagall wants me to take you to her office."  Hermione glared at Malfoy.  "Come on."  She took my wrist and started pulling me away.

"Thanks."  I muttered as she dragged me away.

"What was he saying to you?"

"He seems to think he's got a lot of influence and that the Dark Lord will be coming for me."

"That proves it.  His dad's a Death Eater."  Hermione grimaced.  "But I wonder why he thinks that Vo- Voldemort would come for you?"  Hermione thought aloud.

"Voldemort… de mort…."

"What?"  Hermione asked.

I frowned.

"His name is French."  I mumbled.

"Er… what are you talking about?"

"It literally translates, I believe, into 'thief of death,' vol de mort."

Hermione gaped at me.  "You speak French then?"

"A bit."  I shrugged.  "I took some in middle school and high school."

"Excellent.  Would you teach me some?"

"I probably wouldn't be the best person for the job."  I said reluctantly.  "I mean, I only have three years experience with it."

"More than I have and I feel I should know some French, living so close and all.  I only know the basics."

"That makes two of us."

"I didn't figure that thing about Voldemort's name out."

I blushed.  "Well, I just like anagrams and stuff."  I shrugged.  "My friend Ming and I used to send notes back and forth full of anagrams and riddles.  French was always mixed with it to make it more confusing."

"Why?"

"We didn't want the teachers reading them out loud if they were ever intercepted."

Hermione laughed.  "Oh, here's Professor McGonagall's office."  Hermione knocked on the door and I felt my stomach drop.

The door opened and McGonagall stood there looking severe as ever. 

"Oh, Ms. Granger, thank you.  You may proceed to class, Ms. Fynn, come in."  She ushered me in.  Hermione muttered "good luck" before hustling away.  "I hope she was a good teacher?"

"Excellent."  I nodded.

"Well, I'm sure you'll do well on this.  There's really no expected level.  Failing isn't really a bad thing because you're not expected to know any of this.  But, if you've practiced, you may get into second year."

I nodded.  It would be sort of embarrassing, sure, being the oldest second year, but at least I would be learning something.  And I would have to be in school longer than anyone else.  That part was kind of frustrating, to say the least.  

"First, Charms.  Professor Flitwick is free this period so we'll go to his classroom.  He'll give you some starter tasks and move up levels until we reach a point where you aren't capable."

Once again, I bobbed my head in affirmation.  

A short old man opened his door when McGonagall knocked.

"Oh, yes, Ms. Fynn!  I am Professor Flitwick."  He squeaked.  "I will take it from here, Minerva, you can teach your class.  Shall I return her to you after the period's done?"

"Yes."  McGonagall smiled encouragingly at me and then left.

"Let us start with the simple motion of… well, do you know what it is?"

"Swish and flick?"  I guessed feebly.

"Very good!  Very good!"  Professor Flitwick clapped his hands together.  "What charms do you already know?"

"Um… levitation, banishing, unlocking, summoning and… I can't…."

"Don't be nervous."  Flitwick shook his head.  "Let's see levitation, shall we?"

I went systematically through all of the charms that Hermione had taught me.  Flitwick nodded and took notes.  Ron had taught me a cheering charm, which Flitwick ended up asking if I could perform.  When I could he was so pleased that he squeaked and clapped his hands again.  The _accio_ spell had taken me quite a bit of practice.  The first try in the classroom I failed.

"Wait!"  I said, desperately as he began to write.  "Give me another chance, please?"

"Go ahead, Ms. Fynn."

I breathed deeply and summoned the book from across the classroom.  

"Favian, I believe you are of fifth year level!  Ms. Granger taught you very well!  The only reason I would hesitate to put you in the fifth year class is because of O.W.Ls but I think I will anyway.  If you can't manage the practice O.W.Ls I'll just move you down a level.  Does that sound fair?"

I nodded, smiling shakily.  

Transfiguration I excelled in.  Professor McGonagall had been so impressed that she had mumbled something about "Ms. Granger should take a job in teaching."  I would be sure to tell her.  McGonagall decided to do the same thing that Flitwick had and just put me in the fifth year and would do a practice O.W.L.  I gave oral essays to McGonagall before she deemed it time to meet the Potions Master, Professor Snape.

My cauldron was already in the dungeon.  McGonagall had left me, reassuring me that I would do fine.  I didn't believe her, of course.  Ron and Harry told me that the ingredients were much more difficult to use than to discuss.  I had practically memorized my potion books because Harry had said that Snape was so rough.  Mentally I went over every potion that Hermione had ever described to me; though, under no circumstances was I to mention the Polyjuice Potion.  

"Ms. Fynn," a cold voice called to me.  I whipped around to face a man with beetle-black eyes and greasy, shoulder-length hair.  "Welcome to your first Potions' class."

"Thank you."  I said uncertainly.  My sweaty palms were in fists because I was so afraid of shaking.  Snape smiled at me, not warmly.  

"You have never used a cauldron before, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right."  I nodded.

"Pity."  He said.  "This will be quick, at least."

Suddenly I had the urge to show him that it _wouldn't be quick.  Hermione said it was just like cooking: you only had to follow the directions carefully._

"Bring it on."  I said, accidentally.  I blushed.  Snape narrowed his eyes at me.

"What was that?"

"I said, I'm ready, at least, I hope I am."

Snape's upper lip curled.  He handed me the ingredients for a simple potion.  At least he said it was simple.  To my over wracked brain it was impossibly hard.  Still, I managed the first potion and it looked like the book had said it would.

"Satisfactory."  Snape waved his wand and the potion disappeared.  "More than most of my students can say."

_Tough love._

I spent an entire two periods making "simple" potions for him.  He said that I could probably do fine in third year, but wanted to see how I did with complex potions before making a decision.  

"Would you mind missing part of dinner?"  He asked.

"No."  I lied.  I was starving, but wouldn't have admitted it for all the gold in Gringotts.

"Good.  See the potion on the board?"

I nodded.

"Begin."

The Draught of Peace wasn't that complicated.  I followed it word for word and double-checked everything.  I looked at the vapor rising from my cauldron and wasn't relieved to see shiny gray smoke.  Would he interpret that as silver?  It was supposed to be silver, I was pretty sure.  It looked sort of silver, but Snape was tough from what I had been told.

He frowned.  "Are you sure you've never handled a cauldron before?"

"I'm pretty sure."  I nodded.

"Go to dinner."  He dismissed me.  "Professor McGonagall said for me to tell you to go to Professor Binns next.  How much do you know about the night sky?"

"Ooh, I love astronomy!"  I said excitedly.  "Does he teach that?"

"No.  History.  Professor Sinistra teaches astronomy.  You will do that tonight."

I crashed into a chair at dinner next to Hermione and grabbed a sandwich.

"How is it going?"  Ron asked casually, rubbing his stomach.

"Exhausting."  I admitted through a mouthful of food.  I took a swig of the sweet liquid.  "What is this stuff, anyway?"

"Pumpkin juice."  The three chimed.

"Oh, weird.  God, I'm famished."

"Did you have lunch?"  Ron asked.

"No.  Snape gave up lunch to do Potions with me."

"Hm."  Hermione poked at her meal thoughtfully.  "How did Potions go?"

"It was hard but he wanted me to do a more complex potion.  The Draught of Peace."

Ron and Harry stared at me.  "How did you do?"

"He seemed surprised."

"No, no, what color was your mist?"  Harry asked.

"Shiny gray, maybe silver.  I don't know what he thought."  I forked salad into my mouth.

"Dammit, Hermione, I want you to teach _us from now on."  Ron said._

Harry wasn't listening to our conversation anymore.  He was listening to somebody else and turning very red.

"He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered…."

"Reckons he dueled with You-Know-Who…."

"Come off it!"

"Let's go."  I muttered.

Hermione slammed down her knife a fork.  "Yes, let's get out of here."

Ron and Harry followed suit and we returned to the Common Room.

"Oh _merde._"  I swore.  "I have to go to Professor Binns' classroom."

"I'll take you."  Ron said.  "Come on."  He took me through the portrait hole again and down the corridor.  "You'll get to know the place pretty soon."

"I hope you're right."  I said looking around.  "God, how does Harry deal with it?"

"Usually not like he's been doing.  I think it's finally getting to him."

"Hormones."  I suggested.

"Yeah," Ron laughed, "probably.  Favian, did you talk to Harry that one night at… our house?"  Ron looked around to see if anyone was listening.

"The night you were made prefect?  Yeah."

"Is he okay?"

"Frustrated.  He needs a little TLC I think."

"What's that?"

"Tender loving care."

Ron smirked.  "I'll be I know who he wants it from."

"Me too."

"No way.  Who do _you _think it is?"

"Cho."

"You've known him for barely a month and you know about as much as I do, and not just Harry-wise."

I laughed.  "I'm lucky sometimes."

"Observant, more like."  Ron looked at a door.  "Here's Binns' room.  Good luck.  I can't ever remember anything worth a damn."  Ron left.

The initial shock of seeing a ghost wore off pretty fast.  I had met some resident ghosts, it just surprised me to see a teacher being a ghost.  He was pretty dull, but he asked me a few questions and took a few notes then let me go.  I had read the text book and Hermione's notes, staying up late into the nights.  Binns didn't say what he intended to do with me.  I went to Herbology next, where I was directed.  Professor Sprout was a kindly witch who waited for me at the exit.  She walked me down to the greenhouses.

"So, you know anything about gardening?"

"Yes.  I had a garden in the States.  My own, you know."

"Excellent!"  I was grateful that I knew so much about plants from my own hobbies.  Neville Longbottom had spoken to me on the train about his weird cactus and other plants and I had, of course, scanned the text.  Once again I did all right.  Astronomy was with a witch who was very pretty and rather young.  She was kind to me and spoke to me about muggle telescopes.  She said I didn't need to know magic to know the stars, though I did get an amazing view through the magical telescopes.  I could've stayed out there all night looking through that telescope.

"Tomorrow, Favian, Professor McGonagall will give you your schedule and if you do well this year you'll probably take some extra courses next year."

"Thanks, Professor Sinistra."

"No problem.  I'll see you next week."

(A/N: This is my very first serious fanfic.  I didn't post it sooner for a few reasons.  One: I was whisked off to Dairy State, Wisconsin.  Two: I stupidly broke a rule on here {I'm a rebel without a clue.}  Three: Actually, one and two are the only reasons.  If you haven't read the fifth Harry Potter book, stop reading _maintainent_!_  I'm trying to follow the book closely as I can, considering I've only read it once.  Enjoy.)_


	10. Graded

That night I collapsed into bed barely remembering to brush my teeth.  In fact, I woke up in the middle of the night remembering that I hadn't yet cleaned them.  Disgusted with myself I lugged my body out of bed and headed for the girls' room.  I paused in front of the sink and realized that the next day I would find out what grade level my classes were.  

_Wait a minute!  _

Something was missing from my class tests.  What about Defense Against the Dark Arts?  I couldn't imagine why I hadn't taken that test.  I had heard nasty things about the new teacher; perhaps McGonagall didn't want me to… ruin things?  

I scrubbed out my mouth with my purple toothbrush and Squeaky Clean paste that squeaked when one was done cleaning their mouth.  I decided that I would worry about… stuff in the morning.  

I returned into the common room where a fire was still crackling.  It was such a nice room, though some of the furniture had stuffing coming out.  

My eyelids were so heavy….

"Hey, Favian... Favian!"  

I jerked to life from the common room floor.  My eyes snapped open and I found identical faces peering at me.  Fred and George were standing over me looking concerned.

"What… Oh my God, I fell asleep."  I said groggily.  My toothbrush was still in hand though I had dropped my toothpaste during the night.  "What time is it?"

"Five.  You're lucky that no one else is up yet."  George said.

"People would trample you."  Fred grinned.  He and his brother assisted me to my feet.  I felt a bruise on my buttocks from when I had landed and, miraculously, slept through.

"What are you two doing up so early?"

"Working."  They said simultaneously.  

"Speaking of which… how would you fancy helping us?"  George asked.

"Nothing too terrible, of course, as we respect you as a human being."

"Unlike ickle firsties."

"Who are not yet humans."

"Nice."  I said, stretching.  "But I'm not sure how you treat humans."

"Kindly."

"With care."  Concluded Fred with a grin.

"Sure."  I eyed them warily.  "You didn't… you know… hurt me when you found me asleep, did you?"

Fred and George looked mockingly astounded and hurt.

"How dare you, madam!"

"You think of us as… cruel and unusual?"

"I never know with you two."  I shook my head.  

"You know, you have about an hour before everyone gets up."  George said, looking at his watch.  

"If I were you, I'd get some more sleep."  Said Fred.  "After all, there's nothing better for you to do, if you refuse to assist us."

"I have to take a shower."

"I only shower when it rains."  George joked.

"Ah, thus the smell."  Fred said, looking disgustedly at his twin.

"I'll be back in a few moments."

"Not if one of us comes with you."  Fred winked.

I laughed and ran up to my dormitory to grab some shampoo and clothing.  When I returned I found Fred and George bending over some books and writing down the information that they found necessary.  They didn't look up as I crept into the bathrooms.  I took delight in having the bathroom all to myself.  After I was done I used the spell that Hermione had taught me to dry myself.

"Aridisio!"  I put on my robes and pocketed my wand.  I didn't know what books I would need the next day so I grabbed my Defense Against the Dark Arts book and started where I had finished.  So far I had found it incredibly boring and long-winded.  

_It'd probably be better just to be blasted to bits by some dark wizard.  I thought grimly to myself.  I couldn't believe how incredibly annoying this book was._

"You're reading that, out of class?"  Fred gawped.

"Yeah…."  I looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell for?"  George frowned.

"Um… I think it'd be good to know what I'm about to be taught by Professor Umbrella."

Both George and Fred broke into hysterical laughter.

"What?"

"Umbridge, not Umbrella."  Fred said between peals of laughter.

"Oh whatever."  I rolled my eyes at him.

"You'd better not forget in front of _her.  She's already given Potter a week's worth of detentions."  George said grimly.  "Rather touchy."_

"That's right!  I heard about that."  

"That's no surprise.  I thought you would've met Umbridge, what with your tests.  How did that go, by the way?"

"All right."  I shrugged.  "But I didn't take Umbridge's test." 

"Probably because she's an incompetent dingbat."  Fred shook his head dramatically.

"Really?"  I felt my heart sinking.

"Yeah.  All we do is read in class."  George stuck his tongue out in disgust.

I looked at my book.  I only had half a chapter left.  I chewed on my lip.  If that was, indeed, all we did, did I want to be done with the book?  

"Favian… are you in lalala land?"  Fred asked, waving a hand in front of my eyes.

"What?  Oh, yeah… no….  Just tired."  I finished lamely.

"Hm.  You've got about twenty minutes to sleep."

"That's hardly worth it."  I grinned.

"I quite agree."  Fred nodded sagely.

Twenty minutes later I had finished the book and everyone was coming, yawning and rubbing their eyes, into the common room.  Hermione was the only one who looked alert.  Ginny yawned widely and smiled at me.  I went down to breakfast with Ginny and Eloise.  Seamus and Dean caught up to us and took seats next to us at the table.  

"Ms. Fynn!"  Professor McGonagall called to me after I had finished eating.  "Please accompany to my office, if you would."

I felt my stomach clench and my heart sink into my hips.  I didn't even say anything.  I just got up and followed.  I felt like everyone was watching me and thinking "poor stupid muggle-born Favian should just be shot and put out of her misery!"

Deep down, I agreed.

"Favian-."  McGonagall walked into her office.  "Have a biscuit."  She offered me a cookie.  I didn't think my stomach would hold it so I politely refused.

"I'm not feeling so well, ma'am."  I admitted.

"Understandable."  She looked down at her parchment for a moment and then returned her gaze to mine.  "I have here, your results from yesterday."

I swallowed hard.

"No need to be… well… I can't really say that.  It's going to be difficult for you, I'm afraid."

I felt as though I was about to cry.  It sounded like first grade was starting all over and I didn't want to stay in school longer.  I buried my fingers in my hair despairingly.

"Fifth year is a very difficult time… and I hope you can do well."  My jaw dropped.  "Your work is quite remarkable, Ms. Fynn.  Even Professor Snape spoke… highly of your skills." 

"What… how?"

"Miss Granger is quite a good teacher, it would seem."  

"What about Defense Against…."

McGonagall stiffened.  "Professor Umbridge is not to know that you are muggle-born.  She has been told that you are from the American school Red and White Roses and yesterday you were being… filled in."

I nodded, not asking why.

"Now, I don't know how this will work for you, but here are some extra classes you can choose from for next year."  McGonagall handed me a list.  My eyes were drawn to Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Study of Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy, though I had no Godly idea what the last one was.  "Two would be sufficient.  And if you're doing well enough in your classes, I may be able to sneak you into them this year."

"I'll work my hardest, ma'am." I looked again at the list.  "What classes would you recommend?"

"All of them, well, for you?  Not Muggle Studies, of course, but I don't think Divination is that good of a course.  Arithmancy is extremely difficult, though I don't doubt you could do it.  Ancient Runes are interesting but also complicated.  Care of Magical Creatures can be useful, depending on what you plan to do."

"I don't even know what there is to do….  I think Runes and Magical Creatures and Arithmancy sound the most interesting.  I guess I can't take all three, but… I'll ask Hermione what she thinks, if I can."

"She takes all three of those."  McGonagall smiled slightly.  "You can learn Arithmancy out of Hogwarts later in life, if you find a job that seems to require that.  It's very complicated.  If you had come to Hogwarts earlier then I would probably say that you would be fine with all three.  Here is your present course schedule.  Charms first today.  Good luck."  I took the parchment from her and pushed away from her desk.  I walked half-blindly to Gryffindor House.  I mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and headed up to the girls' dorm.  

After I had collected my books I went to my first ever Charms lesson.

"Ah!  Come in Miss Fynn!"  I poked my head hesitantly around the door.  He beamed at me.  "I was just talking about the importance of O.W.L.s."  I took a seat next to Ron and put my bag under my desk.  After an hour we moved onto Summoning Charms, which would undoubtedly show on the exams.  In the end we were all assigned an essay on the levitation spell.  _Not too bad._

Transfiguration was very similar except that we practiced Vanishing Spells.  I watched Hermione attempt twice before finally vanishing her snail on the third try.  It took me about six attempts to get it.  Still, that was better than anyone else (besides Hermione, I mean.)  Lavender Brown shot me a dirty look and whispered something to Parvati, who shrugged and continued her efforts.

Hermione didn't receive any homework.  My homework was to learn Conjuring Spells and to be able to show McGonagall the next day. Hermione promised to help me during her lunch period.  She sniffed at Ron, who apparently had made a crack at her knitting.  I told her that knitting was difficult and that she should hardly feel badly about this.

Conjuring was difficult.  I was very frustrated after my eleventh try.  Hermione showed me her notes on the subject and I took a deep breath and managed to succeed.  My head was buzzing with the effort.  I had a free period next, Hermione recommended that I come and watch a Magical Creatures lesson.  I agreed.  Bowtruckles weren't really that interesting to me, but I was startled at first.  There was some talk about Hagrid from Malfoy, Harry and Ron.  Malfoy gave me a cruel glare before whispering something to his large friends.

I walked to Herbology, apart from Hermione, Ron and Harry, who were deep in discussion about something that I figured didn't concern me.  Dean and Seamus didn't want me to walk alone.

"Hey, Favian."  Said Dean jovially.

"Hi."  I smiled.  I felt my stomach somersault when he spoke to me.  Seamus was looking at the ground as he walked with his eyebrows close together.

"How were your first lessons for you?  Good, I expect."  Dean grinned.

I blushed.  "They were all right, though I've got some homework from Flitwick, but it's just an essay."

"Two feet of essay."  Dean reminded me.

"That's too bizarre."  I said, shaking my head.  "I mean, why measure the length of an essay by that?  Isn't what you put into it?  And what if some people's handwriting is larger than someone else's?  What then?"

Dean laughed but was cut off abruptly by Malfoy.

"So, the American whore is all you can get, is she, Thomas?"  

"Take that back."  Dean growled.

"Potty won't like that you're stealing his skank."

"Shut up."  Dean and Seamus said together.

"Interesting."  I looked coolly over at Malfoy but continued to Herbology.

"What's interesting?"  Malfoy asked.

"How retarded someone can be.  I always wondered, and then I met you."    


	11. Death Flight

Malfoy turned so pink that I thought he might burst.  I suppressed a small smile and continued on my way.

"Mudblood, trust me when I say that you will feel my wrath."  He hissed.

"I don't doubt you for a second, Malfoy."  I snapped.  "But I don't fear you for one either."

Malfoy smirked.  "Just you wait."

"I still am."  I retaliated.  

"Is he ALWAYS like that?!"  I asked in exasperation.  I had sat down next to Hermione in the Great Hall at dinner.  Malfoy hadn't cut me slack at all that day.  Every chance he had her cornered me in the hall or after a class.  He even waited for me outside of the bathroom.  He was like a stalker or something.  I had to admit to myself that it made me edgy.

"Is who always like what?"  Ron asked; chewing lamb chops as he spoke.

"Malfoy, a stalker."  I jabbed my chops viciously, imagining Malfoy's face. 

Harry, Ron and Hermione raised their eyebrows at me.

"What do you mean?"  Hermione asked quickly.

"He frickin' followed me everywhere!"  I swore.

Ron's eyebrows came together.  "I don't know, is there some sort of a rule that says we can knick a few points from Slytherin if a member is stalking someone?"

"No."  Hermione said firmly.  "But we can talk to Professor McGonagall if you'd like."

I shook my head firmly.  "No, then he'd know he's getting to me."

"Want me to have a word with him?"  Ron flexed his fingers.

"I'd prefer to be the one to have that kind of word."  I said.

Harry and Hermione laughed.  Ron grinned.  "Favian, you are one in a million."

"No."  I disagreed.  "I'm just angry."  

Harry left to go to detention with Professor Umbridge at five to five.  Ron and Hermione seemed really worried about him.

"Is she that bad?"  I asked.

"Worse."  Ron said fervently.  "She's a monster and Harry's not in a good mood lately."

"Who can blame him?"  Hermione asked reasonably.  "And all the homework he's going to have to catch up on.  We can get a good start tonight, Ron, Favian."

I agreed with a silent nod.  Ron looked sideways, as though searching for an escape.  

"Let's go to the library, shall we?" Hermione asked me.  I nodded.

"Er… I have to go to my dorm.  I'll catch up with you two later."  Ron sprinted away before Hermione could object.  

"Catch up with us never, more like."  Hermione's mouth thinned into a line reminiscent of McGonagall's most severe.  

I smiled and shook my head.  On the way to the library the corridors were mostly empty.

"Do you fancy him?"  I asked, using the expression I had heard so many times over the month at Grimmauld Place.  Funny expression, really.

"What?"  Hermione was startled.  First she turned white and then crimson.  "No!  What made you wonder that?"

I shrugged.  "Sorry."

"No, Favian, really, what made you wonder?"

"The way you two are around each other."  

Hermione became silent and pensive.  Oh, she totally dug him.  

We finished our homework and returned to the common room two hours later.  Hermione stayed up knitting while Fred and George worked diligently on their Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.  I sat there, resignedly staring at the clusters of First Years doing homework and wondered how detention was going for Harry.

_The plane plummeted into the turbulent waters and somewhere…._

**_HE LAUGHS!___**

I jerked in my seat.  I must've dozed off.  

I was still shaking, covered in a thin sheen of sweat.  That face… with the red eyes and cat-like pupils… so impossibly pale and cruel.  That contorted face, filled with malicious laughter… I had never seen it before.  

"What is it, Favian?"  Hermione asked quietly, scooting over closer to me. 

"A bad dream."  I frowned.  "A really bad dream."  I shook my head.

"Need to talk about it?"  She asked with concern.

"Not likely."  I shrugged.  But somehow I did.  "I've never seen a face like that."  I whispered.  "Never ever."

"A face like what?"

I described it slowly to her.  "And he was responsible for a plane crash…."  It had been a very familiar plane.  "Oh God."  I clapped a hand to my mouth.  I scrunched my eyes shut.  "Now I'm dreaming about the plane crash again.  God no."

Hermione was silent, but her face had drained.  Maybe it was just my vision blurring because of the tears waiting to spill.  My father and mother remained dead.  I missed them so much that it ached when it returned.  I buried my face in my hands.  I realized that ever since I had started classes I had been saving experiences to share with my parents when I came home.  

There would be no home to go to.  How wrapped up in life had I become that I had forgotten my parents?  The greatest friends I would ever have.  The only parents I would ever have.  I squeezed my eyes shut and tears leaked over my lids.  

"I'm sorry."  I said, sitting back up and wiping my face on my sleeve.  "It's just… are you okay?"  I asked.  Hermione was biting her lip.

"This man… sounds incredibly like… Vol- Voldemort." 

"Death flight."  I muttered.  "That's exactly what that plane became."

"French?"  She asked.

"Yes."

"I wonder if Voldemort killed your parents."  Hermione thought aloud.

I was beginning to wonder.


	12. Spell of Stars

I slept poorly that night.  In fact, I only slept for about two hours before waking up and remaining that way.  I was restless in the worst way.  In order not to go mad, I stood and dressed silently in sweat pants and a tight blue shirt.  I had went out to Diagon Alley again and gotten some new clothes.  There was a muggle clothing shop called Muggle Madness.  

I went down the steps and into the common room where the fire was crackling happily.  I paced around restlessly and found a bunch of knitted hats that Hermione had left out that night.  I rolled my eyes, remembering that Harry and Ron believed that the House Elves were quite happy being enslaved.

"Eep!"  I heard a squeak and scampering feet.

"Who's there?"  I asked, my heart pounding.  "Please, who?" 

"Dobby, miss, Dobby the House Elf.  I is sorry to have disturbed you, miss."

"Oh, you're not bugging me."  I shrugged.  "Hey, you're Harry's friend, Dobby!"

"Yes I is!"  A small creature came out from behind a sofa.  I hadn't met this House-Elf.  It had the strangest assortment of clothing on.  It wore three knitted hats, capped with a tea-cozy, and a maroon sweater and baggy trousers.  "And you is Favian Fynn."

I smiled and nodded, not asking how he knew my name.

"How do you like work here?"

"I loves it."  He nodded fervently.  "Is you liking school, Ms. Favian Fynn?"  

"Yes.  It's a good school.  The House-Elves do a magnificent job keeping such a massive place clean."

Dobby beamed.

"Dobby, are students allowed outside at night?"

Dobby shook his head, ears drooping.

"Oh, thanks anyway."

"But there is a way out, away from teachers' prying eyes."  

I didn't want to break the rules, but I had to get out.  

"Can you show me?"

Dobby nodded happily.  "Come!  Come on!  I show you."  

He grabbed my hand and pulled me to a paining on the wall.  It was of a sleeping unicorn with a long golden horn next to a Re'em, a buffalo with golden fleece.  The Re'em was awake and watching me with dull animal interest.  

Dobby reached out and poked the Re'em.  Its eyes shut and its mouth rounded into a doorknob.  Dobby opened the door, but the doorway was small and I had to crawl in after him.  I wriggled through the hole while Dobby ran ahead.  

"To the right, Favian Fynn."  I crawled to the right and then I fell.

"Oof!"  I grunted as I landed two feet down.  

"Sorry," Dobby looked down, "I is forgetting about that."

"It's okay."  I groaned.  

"Only a little farther, Favian Fynn."  Dobby said reassuringly.  About three minutes later we came to a solid stone wall.  Dobby touched a stone and it turned gold, then three more consecutively and they all glowed and finally opened to the roof.  

"Oh thank you Dobby!"  I fidgeted out.  We stood on a roof that overlooked the Quidditch pitch.  The six hoops stood tall over the seats and ground.  "I wish I could fly."  I said without thinking.  

"Why, Ms. Favian Fynn can't you?  You is a witch!"

"I don't have a broom."    

"You does not need a broom!  No.  There is a spell."

I wanted to fly over to the pitch and fly around through the hoops.  

"Do you know it?"

"No, I is not knowing."  

"Oh.  I'll find it."

Dobby smiled.  "I is needing to get back to the kitchens.  Bye Favian Fynn!"  And he scurried off.

I spent until sunrise watching the sky.  I leaned against the statue of a soldier.  It shifted a few times.  At first I wasn't sure if it minded, but it didn't seem to.  It looked down at me and went back to staring out at nothing.  It seemed to wonder what I was doing outside.

"I couldn't sleep.  I've been having bad dreams."  I explained, feeling slightly foolish.

It nodded.

As the sun cast its rays above the hills I said goodbye the statue, which nodded.  I crawled back to the common room before anyone was up.  Except, the Weasley twins.  

"Ms. Fynn!  What were you doing on the roof?"  Fred solicited, imitating McGonagall's stern voice.

I blushed.  "How did you know I was on the roof?"

"We know everything."  George said mysteriously.  "Even your darkest secrets."

"And we don't like that you've been seeing three other guys."

I laughed.

"How long have you been up?"  Fred asked. 

I shrugged.  "Since midnight."

"Tsk, tsk.  Had you fallen it would have been hours before anyone knew you were gone."

"Ah well, I wouldn't be so sure."  I grinned.  "There was my lover."

Fred and George gawped.

"I'm just kidding!"  They laughed and turned red.  

"How did you find that doorway?"

"Dobb- I was poking around."  I didn't want to get Dobby into trouble.

"Good way to do it."  George nodded sagely.

"That's what I thought."

I went up to the roof every night after that.  I was able to collect my thoughts there and even talk to the stone soldier, who was as good a listener as any.  I told him that Harry and Ron seemed like they were over-tired as of late and seemed to be hiding something.  I complained about Malfoy, whose stalking had only increased.  I had found ways to avoid him, but I wasn't looking forward to classes with him.  I explained about my perpetual nightmare and how much I missed my parents.  The statue had begun to move more and more, eventually patting me on the head when I cried.  Some nights I spent a few minutes guessing his name.

"Does it begin with an A?"

He shook his head.  I asked until he nodded.  

"Is it Jake?  Jacob?  Jeff?  Oh, how many letters are there?  One?  Two?  Five?  Six?  Six then.  Jiggles.  Oh I don't know."

The statue indicated that I give him my hand.  He took it and traced the letters in my palm.  

"Jaeger?  Cool name."

He pointed to me.

"Oh mine?  It's Favian.  I know it's a boy's name but my mother was insane."  I smiled and looked away.  On the Quidditch pitch I saw a boy flying around on a broomstick.  He wasn't too shabby.  Then again, I had never flown or seen someone fly, so that was all coming from me.  "Can you see who that is?"

Jaeger nodded.

I squinted.  "How?"

Jaeger shrugged.

"Do you know his name?"

Jaeger shook his head.

"Oh well.  I'll try to find out."  I sighed.  "I wish I could fly."  My wand tingled in my pocket.  I pulled it out.  "I think my wand does too."  It glowed momentarily silver, like the moon.  My eyes became hazy and the word slipped from my lips.  "Aviatas."  And I tapped myself in the chest.  

The feeling was like no other I had ever experienced.  It was so soft and smooth.  It slid around my body like an airy liquid.  I pushed myself off of the ground and floated in the air.  Jaeger clapped his stone hands lightly together.  I rounded my eyes.

"I'll be back in a minute."  I whispered.  I pocketed my wand and flew out.

"Hermione."  I whispered, shaking her shoulders.  "Hermione!"

"What?"  She groaned, rolling over.

"I've discovered a spell!"

"Favian, couldn't this have waited?"

"Is it normal to discover spells?"

"What do you mean 'discover?'"

"Discover, like I stood there and wanted to be able to do something and my wand made me invent a word."

Hermione was fully awake.  "What does your spell do?"

"Allows me to fly."

"Without a broom?  For a long time?"

"Yes."

"Favian!  This is tremendous!"  She sat up.  "Can you show me?"

"Yes."  

Hermione looked at her clock.  "Oh darn!  There isn't time!  Show me tonight, you promise?"

I nodded.  Hermione jumped out of bed and dressed.  

That morning at breakfast I had been ready to sit down next to Dean when I was confronted by what looked like a toad that had been turned into a human.  Professor Umbridge.

"Why, hello Ms. Fynn isn't it?"

I nodded.

"I am Professor Umbridge."

Again, I nodded.  Her voice was sickly sweet and I just wanted to slap her to a lower octave.

"You haven't yet attended one of my classes and I fear you will fall behind the other students."

"Okay.  I'm going to next week's."  I said.

"Oh no, no, no.  I want you to come during your free period."

"Oh, why?  Can't I get the notes off of a friend?"

Professor Umbridge's smile widened.  "If I allowed students to do that they might end up skipping classes, Ms. Fynn."

"Professor, that's not my style.  You don't need to worry about that."

Professor Umbridge's eyes flashed.  "You will come to my classroom during your free period."

"Okay."

Professor Umbridge smiled and walked away.  I took a seat next to Dean.

"What a bitch."  I muttered to him.

"Who?"

"Umbridge."

"Oh, you've met her then?"

"Yes."  

"What did she want?"

"Me to come to her class during my free period."

"That sucks."  

I nodded my agreement and ate.  Ron, I noticed, looked shaky, drawn and pale.  Harry looked crabby and Hermione was reading a text book.  Ginny and Eloise were deep in conversation and Seamus was working furiously to finish logging a dream for Divination.  

"Add something about an egg; I dream about eggs a lot."  Neville said.

"Do you really?"  Dean asked.

Neville blushed.  "Yeah."

I laughed.


	13. Dream Friend

I went to the Defense corridor and found Umbridge's class.  I noticed her sitting toad-like at her desk as second years filed slowly in.  They were whispering sourly amongst themselves.  

"Dirty rotten-."

"Shush.  You don't want a detention from the old-."

I walked in with the rest of the class.  I was with Hufflepuffs, none of whom did I recognize.  I didn't really care what they thought of being with a fifth year Gryffindor; after all, I had a legitimate story.  Then I remembered what McGonagall had told me about not telling Umbridge that I was muggle-born.  _American.  Red and White Petunias… rather Roses.  _Ooh dear.  I hoped that she wouldn't question me too much.  I would surely slip.

"Ah, Ms. Fynn."  Professor Umbridge actually stood up and walked over to my desk.  "There are some notes on the board that I would like you to take, if you would be so kind."  Her voice made me stiffen.  What an awful voice from an awful person.  I wondered if she had a husband and shuddered at the visual of her frog-lips touching someone else.

_Eek!  _

I pulled out the piece of parchment that I had copied the notes onto from Hermione the night before.  They were exactly identical, but I pretended to be studying them anyway.  _Blah, blah, blah._

"I'm done, Professor."  I said after a few moments.  

"Good, now you may join the class in reading a chapter from the book."

I blushed.  "Um… I've already read the entire book."

Professor Umbridge's smile faded slightly.  "Excuse me?"

The Hufflepuffs stopped reading and looked up fearfully.   

"I've already read the entire book."  I repeated.  "Is that against the rules, ma'am?"  I wasn't trying to be a bad kid or anything, I was just curious.  

"Are you intentionally being rude?"  Her voice became sugar-coated poison.

"No, not at all."  I was stunned.  Teachers usually loved me.  _This is the new Anti-Favian Breed.  Bum.  BUM!_

"Then you will read the first chapter."

"Again?"

"You still hold to having read the entire book?"

"I started reading it as soon as I got it.  I imagined that we would be referring to it for spells."

"There will not be a need for wand work in this classroom."

"Are you serious?"  I was aghast.  "But… how can you fully learn something without applying it first in the classroom?"

"She's in for it now."  A Hufflepuff whispered to his neighbor. 

"If you've read the book, you shall have no trouble on the O.W.L.'s, Ms. Fynn."

"But…."

"No buts; just read and accept."

"Seriously?"  Then I saw that she was serious.  She didn't want her students to question.  "Okay then.  If you really, really mean it… but… okay.  But what should I do now?"

"Read."

"Again?"  I stuttered.  "Ugh!"  The book had been so boring, boring, BORING.  

"If you've truly read the entire book, then you should be able to tell me Slinkhard says about the ineffectiveness of newly invented spells in chapter nineteen." 

I sighed.  I didn't like Slinkhard's explanation of how newly invented spells came to be and why he thought they sucked; I thought it was stupid.  "He said that newly invented spells have hardly been tested and are usually 'wand burps.'  Especially as of late.  Voldemort's spells were actually branched off of other spells."

Professor Umbridge blanched.

"What?"

"Do not speak his name!"

"Why not?"  Professor Umbridge looked ready to unleash Hell on me.  "Sorry, I forgot.  See, in America we don't really mind saying his name."  

"Oh, of course."  Umbridge cooled. 

"Again, what should I do?  Can I go to Care of Magical Creatures now?  Since I'm pretty much caught up with my own class?"

"Of course not."  Umbridge said smoothly.  "And if you ask to leave again, I will take points from Gryffindor."

"Oh.  I'll just read then, shall I?"

Umbridge revealed her pointy teeth.  "That's better."

"Quidditch try-outs today, Favian."  Fred said, rubbing his hands together.  

"Coming to watch?"  George asked.

"Sure."  I nodded, adding a period to a sentence.

"You could try out for the team."  Fred said slyly.

"I'm not about to expose my butt on a broomstick for you to pretend to goggle at."  I said dully.  "Done."  I rolled up my parchment.

"Damn."  George snapped his fingers.  "I thought she was easy-eye-candy."

"Actually, I was considering something."  I said thoughtfully. 

"What was that?"

"Being the team masseuse."  I winked.

"Are you any good?"  Fred inquired.

"You have no idea."  I stood and went to the girls' dorms.  I put my homework under my bed and stretched.  "Hey Eloise."

Eloise was drawn-out on her bed.  "Hi Favian."

"How goes it?"  I asked, sitting on my bed.

"The same as ever."  She looked at me curiously.  "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

"No."  I smiled, remembering the thoughts that I believed would be my last.  _Never had a boyfriend…._  "Never."

"Me neither."  

"Oh."

"You know Neville?"

I grinned.  "Yeah, he's funny."

"I think I like him."

"Aw.  You should go out with him, though… I don't know where you'd go."

"Hogsmeade."  Eloise said automatically.

"Ooh, that's right, I've heard about that."  I imagined going with someone that was insanely attractive.  Yes, that would be nice.

"The upper-classmen are pretty good-looking."  Eloise said.

"I've noticed, but I also think that some of our year are pretty hot." 

"Like who?"

I blushed.  "No one in particular."

"Oh come on, you can tell me."

"I just did."

"Favian, you're a silly goose if you think I can't tell that you're lying."

"Well, I'd best be off to the races."  I mocked her English accent.  "Quidditch try-outs.  Coming?"

Ron became team Keeper.  He was so excited that he hugged me and spun me around.  Hermione wasn't exactly thrilled but refused the same treatment.  I shook my head.  When Harry came back, Hermione had fallen asleep in an armchair.  

"What's this I hear about you being team-masseuse?"  Harry asked, grinning.

I stuck my tongue out.  "Yeah, well, only if someone better doesn't come along."

Harry snuck off to the corner with Hermione and whispered heatedly.  She looked worried and whispered back.  Hermione and Harry were sneaking off to bed.  Not together, mind you.  

"Hermione."  I said, rushing over to her.  "I thought you wanted to see my spell."

"Oh!  That's right!  Wake me up when everyone's in bed, okay?"

I nodded.  

"What about those massages then?"  

"Hermione."  I shook the bushy-haired girl into consciousness.  

"Right then."  She stepped groggily out of bed.  She followed me sleepily to the portrait. 

"It's a bit of a squeeze."  I apologized.  We crawled through the space.  I had become so familiar with it that I had forgotten to warn Hermione about the drop.  

"This spell had better be good, Favian."  Hermione grunted, pulling herself onto the roof.

Jaeger waved to me.

"Jaeger, this is Hermione, Hermione this is Jaeger."  Jaeger nodded.

"You've…."  Hermione shook her head.  "Show me."

"You don't even pause to enjoy the view."

"It's cold."

"Right."  I took out my wand and pointed it at my chest.  "Aviatas."  I whispered.  The same deliciously cool feeling of flight washed over my limbs.  I floated over to her and pointed at her chest.  She floated with me.  No longer did she look even slightly tired but she was exhilarated.

"How did you discover this?"  She asked, as we floated over the Forbidden Forest.

I shrugged.  "My wand showed me the way."  I twirled through the air.  "It's a special wand, you know.  I wonder if that's why."

"What's the magical animal?"

"Animals."  I corrected.  "Re'em, Sphinx, and Centaur."

"Honestly?"

"Dead serious."

"How bizarre."  Hermione's eyes misted over.  "How honestly bizarre."

_"Hello Favian."  A tall, dark-haired boy spoke calmly to me._

_"Hi Tom."  I grinned.  Tom was one of my best friends.  From my dreams, that is.  It had been quite awhile since I had seen him.  "I'm in __Scotland__, can you believe it?"_

_"I'm from __England__, you know."_

_"Yeah, I did.  Crazy stuff's been happening, Tom.  I've missed you a lot."_

_"I've missed you too, Favian."_

_"Hogwarts is the name of my new school."_

_"I went there, you know."  Tom said, smiling._

_"Really?"_

_"I preformed a special service to the school once.  What House are you in?"_

_"Gryffindor."  I told him.  _

_"Ah, I was in Slytherin."_

_"I hate some of the Slytherins more than anyone I've ever met.  But not you, Tom."_

_"I'm glad to hear it."_

_"I wish you actually existed."_

_"Favian, I do exist.  I am a wizard."_

_"Of course, Tom."  I wished that he were telling the truth._

_"I can tell you things you didn't know, if you still don't believe me."_

_"Shoot."_

_He advanced slowly until his face was close up to mine.  "I can make you feel this."_

_He kissed me.  He'd never done that before.  He'd been sixteen forever in my dreams.  I could feel it too.  It was wonderful and horrible, except that I knew it was a dream, so how was I feeling it?_

_"Believe me now, Favian?"  He breathed softly._

_"I-."_

_"Favian.  The one called Harry Potter… have you met him?"_

_"Yeah."  I was breathing quickly.  "He's nice.  Having trouble with this guy called Voldemort though."_

_Tom smiled wryly for a moment.  "Shall I kiss you again, so that you may awaken?"_

_"I don't want to wake up yet."  I admitted.  "I haven't seen you for so long."_

_He kissed me again then kissed my cheek and my ear and whispered: "I am your Death Flight and you are my Wings."_

_I frowned._

_"Goodbye."_

"Wait!"  I called out.  I sat up and looked around.  My ear still felt warm as though somebody had touched it.  I slumped back down.  It had felt so real.

"What's up, Favian?"  Hermione called from her own bed.

"Ah, nothing.  Just my dream friend."


	14. Cursed Kiss

Hermione wasn't in the best of moods on Saturday morning.  In fact, it would be safe to say that she was rather cranky.  When I apologized for waking her in the night, she shook her head and said that that wasn't it.  I realized that Ron and Harry were already in the Quidditch pitch.  They weren't studying for their O.W.L.'s as she thought was necessary.

"I think we should bring our books outside so we can watch them.  Besides, it's going to get pretty damn cold soon."  I said to Hermione and Eloise.  We had taken up residence in the silent library.  "Besides, isn't it important to support our team?"

"Yeah."  Eloise nodded.

"But… but… oh!  You're just as bad as those two!"  Hermione cried out.  

"Look, if you come with me to the pitch, I'll give you a French lesson tonight."  I promised.

Hermione brightened, then darkened and then agreed somewhat reluctantly.  "But only if we bring some notes or something."

"Deal."  Eloise and I chimed.  

I hadn't been to the Quidditch field other than when I had gone on one of my nightly flights around the grounds.  We wandered to the middle of the empty stands and sat down.  Just as Hermione was asking me the importance of unicorn hairs, we noted that Slytherins were approaching.  I felt my heart sink as I saw Malfoy and Pansy leading the group.  It was an odd combination, if one went solely on looks.  Though I begrudgingly think this, Malfoy was a good looking kid and Pansy was just ugly.  

"Oh God."  I mumbled.

"No, God isn't a factor in… oh, I see."  She rolled up her parchment.  "Don't worry; I doubt they'll come up here."

The Slytherins did come to us though.  In fact, they crowded around us as though to drown out all Gryffindor life.  A large boy put his hands on my shoulders and held me to my seat.  Crabbe and Goyle flanked Malfoy but it seemed as though Malfoy had other cronies at his bidding.  Two more boys of extreme muscle sat on either side of me.  Hermione and Eloise stood rapidly.

"Come on, Favian; let's just go watch from the ground or something."

"Yes."  I tried to get up but the boy behind me wasn't relenting.  "Let go of me."  I said coldly.  He didn't.  "I said let GO OF ME!"  I practically shouted.

"Tut, tut, the Gryffindor slut doesn't want to be touched."  The boys on either side of me jeered.

"What the…?  Was that your idea of a poem or something?  Because it sucked."  I growled.

"Let her go!"  Hermione shouted.  Eloise and Hermione were then shoved down.  Two bulky girls, one named Millicent or something equally horrible, and the other called Zit, that nickname speaking for itself, were responsible for the restraint of my comrades.

The Gryffindor team was getting ready to warm up and seemed as though they were intentionally not looking at us.

"What's that Weasley's riding?"  Malfoy called in his sneering drawl.  "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?"  

The Slytherins guffawed.  I tried to move my arms but they were still pinioned to my sides.

"Hey Johnson, what's with that hairstyle anyway?"  Pansy shrieked.  "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

"I like her hair."  Eloise noted quietly.

"Bet you like your nose too."  Pansy snickered.

"Bet you don't like your face."  I snapped.  Ooh, that was mean.  

Pansy darkened and glared.  "You slut."

"Where in hell did you get that stupid insult?  Your own experiences with Gay Pimp Daddy Malfoy?"

The boy holding my shoulders pulled back a little and then put his hands around my throat.  He didn't squeeze.  

"Go ahead, kill me.  That'll make you feel better."  

"I just like feeling your neck, Favian."  He whispered.

My ears burned and I determinedly watched practice.  Ron dropped the Quaffle and the Slytherins jeered.  

"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?"  Called Malfoy.  "Sure you don't need a lie-down?  It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that's a record for you, isn't it?"  Then he turned back to look at me.  "Or is it this little energy-booster right here that makes you feel so good?"

Harry, though at first not looking back, turned to the last statement, wondering what in God's name he was talking about.  He saw me captive.  Hermione and Eloise were both hidden under large bottoms.  He said something to his teammates rapidly.  They all turned back and saw me.  I shook my head firmly and felt the boy's hands tighten slightly.  His thumbs stroked my chin.

I jerked away, except that it didn't work.  The boys on either side of me only came closer.  

"Hey, Potter, you don't mind if me and the boys take a little sample of your candy?"  Malfoy asked jeeringly.  "Montague, if you want."  Malfoy sneered.  "She's literally in your hands."

The Slytherin team captain.  Montague was the boy grasping my neck.  He began to lower his face to mine.  My eyes bulged and I squirmed.  I wrenched my body uselessly in every which way.  I even shouted profanities at him hoping that my egg-stained breath would catch him off guard.  I felt eyes all on me: Slytherins laughing and Gryffindors outraged.  

"She's quite the little challenge!"  Montague laughed.  Then he grasped my face firmly between his rough, big hands and lowered his lips to mine.

It was hell.  It was hellish misery multiplied by embarrassment.  I kept my lips firmly shut but his tongue fought to get between them.  I couldn't jerk back or away.  I wanted to vomit.  If I screamed he would've gotten into my mouth and that was all I could try to avoid.  I kicked my legs out but the boys on either side of me had grabbed my thighs as well.  

Montague's head jerked away from my face.  He was laughing as the Gryffindor team soared in to the stands.  The Slytherins laughed manically and ran off, though the ones around me took a little longer.  Once they were gone, I curled up into a ball on the bench and wiped my face on my robes until raw.  I felt sick and I wanted to cry.  

"Oh my God.  Oh my _God._"  Katie Bell muttered, with her hand planted over her mouth.  They had made me come back to Gryffindor tower.  I was reluctant to uncurl from my ball of protection.  The Gryffindor team was solemn and disgusted.

"Those toads!  Those overgrown ass-."  Fred was incredulous.  George's face was contorted in rage.  Eloise and Hermione sat on either side of me, subdued.  Angelina and Alicia were pacing the room, quietly discussing what to do.  Harry and Ron looked torn between hatred and sympathy.  

"Someone should tell McGonagall."  Hermione said quietly.

I said nothing.

"What do we say?"  Alicia asked.

"The truth?"  Hermione asked tentatively.

"It's up to Favian."  Katie said quietly.

I said nothing.

"We ought to do something!"  Angelina cried out.  "They can't just get away with this!"

"They won't."  George and Fred chimed.

"But I say we do something the old fashioned way."  George muttered.  "And make it _really bad for them."_

"No!  Then you two will get into trouble!"  Hermione objected.

"Not if we don't get caught."  Fred said fiercely.  "Favian, just nod or shake your head, would it make you happy to see Montague and those two… pigs get into a fight and then get at least a week's worth of detention and then see them bleed for hours from their noses and fall into a faint?"

I nodded slightly.

"It's settled then."  George and Fred slinked off to do whatever damage it was that they planned.  

"Come on, Favian, let's go to our dorm."  Eloise murmured, taking me gently by the arm.

I spent a good deal of that night crying into my pillow.  Eloise and Hermione left me to my wailing, which I greatly appreciated.  Lavender and Parvati came in at one point and didn't ask a thing.  They left hurriedly.  I suspect that word got round, but that only made me cry harder.

I was so miserable and worn out that when night came, I fell asleep immediately after changing somberly into my nightgown.  Nobody said anything to me, and I was gone before anyone else.

_"Hello Favian."  Tom was there, again.  _

_"Tom."  I nodded, still tearful. _

_He frowned.  "What's wrong?"_

_"Everything!"  I sobbed.  He rushed forward to embrace me.  He hugged me tightly in his arms and rocked me back and forth.  I cried into his robes and held on gratefully until I felt a little better._

_"Tell me, if you want, what happened?"_

_I told him._

_"Who hurt you the most?  What was his name?"  Tom asked sharply._

_"Montague."  I said from his shoulder._

_"He will pay in time."  Somehow the way he said it made me feel better.  But it also frightened me.  I tried to think of something funny to say to brighten the mood._

_"You know, I never imagined that my first kiss would be so wet."  But my stomach lurked at the connotation.  "And horrific."  I added._

_"Your first kiss wasn't."  Tom grinned wryly.  _

_"Come on, Tom!  You're just in my dreams."  I thought quietly for a moment.  "Though I wish you were real more than ever."_

_"How would it make you feel to know that I was real?"_

_"Happier than you'll ever know."_

              __

Monday morning rolled around and the worst news had been received by the school:  Professor Umbridge had been appointed "High Inquisitor."  I groaned when I realized that I'd be seeing more of her.  Luckily, I didn't see her in History of Magic, though I was bored out of my mind.  On the way to Potions, the Slytherins blew kisses to me.  I determinedly did nothing to show that I noticed.  I sat down in the dungeons and Snape passed back our essays.  I didn't pay attention to what he said because I was fixated on the grade.  I had a large, spiky E, whatever that meant.  I wondered if I had failed.  

I stared at my paper for so long that Hermione nudged me into action.  We were making a Strengthening Solution today.  I didn't allow my attention to waver once after that, because I was terrified of failing or getting another E.  In America some teachers used Es instead of Fs.  I was relieved to see that my potion closely resembled Hermione's.  At the end of the lesson we put our flasks on Snape's desk and left.  Malfoy had bumped into me on purpose and whispered something vicious to me.  I ignored him.  I considered asking Snape what an E stood for, but I wanted to get out.  I could ask Hermione.  Or Eloise.  

"Well, that wasn't as bad as last week, was it?"  Hermione asked.  "And the homework didn't go too badly either, did it?"

None of us answered.  She babbled on for awhile until Ron interrupted.

"If you want to know what grades we got, ask."

"I don't- I didn't mean- well, if you want to tell me-."

"I got a P," said Ron, ladling soup into his bowl.  "Happy?"

"What's that supposed to be?"  I asked, blushing.

Fred, George and Lee sat down with us.  Fred went on to explain that P meant poor, D was Dreadful, O was Outstanding, E was Exceeds Expectations, A was Acceptable, and last was T for Troll.  There was a bit of laughter at his explanation, but my foul mood had yet to lift.  

"What did you have, Favian?"

"Hm?  Oh, E."  I said, going back to thinking on my own.  My next period was a free period.  I was planning to work on Snape's essay.  I was glad that I had gotten such a good grade, but I wanted to keep it there.  Nobody really pushed me that day because I was still in a bit of a state of shock.  And I was trying to figure out dream-friend Tom.  

What had he meant when he said "I am your Flight and you are my Wings?"  Maybe there had been more to it than that.

"Favian," George whispered, "tomorrow you are going to see such a spectacle… it will brighten you right up."

I smiled, already cheering slightly.

My better mood had dissipated after Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Harry had gotten himself another week's worth of detentions.  What's worse, when I put my hand on his shoulder as we were exiting, Professor Umbridge asked me to stay after.         

"Ms. Fynn," she started, once everyone was gone, "I have heard some rather, _hem,_ unflattering things about you."  Her smile widened.

"Like what?"  I asked.

"Now, now, dear.  As you are an American, you may not understand that, _hem, getting around isn't something to be proud of."_

My mouth dropped.  I couldn't believe her nerve.  "Excuse me?  It's not exactly a good thing in America either!"  I cried out.

Umbridge lifted her eyebrows.  "There's no need to shout, Ms. Fynn."

"And there's no need to assume that just 'cause I'm from America that I'm… I'm…."

"I would never assume.  I have heard things about you from some informants, if you will."

"Oh, I can't guess who those are."  I said sarcastically.

"Do not take that tone with me."  She said, sickly sweet.

"Look, just because you're my teacher doesn't give you the right to insult me.  If you want to get into that, I'd be perfectly happy to take this outside."  I was so angry, and suddenly I forgot who she was.  "You're not always right, and in this case you have never been further from the truth!"

She opened her mouth.

"I'VE NEVER EVEN KISSED SOMEONE!"  I shouted before she could get it out.  "AND IT'S NOT MY DAMN FAULT THAT PEOPLE ASSUME THAT ALL AMERICANS ARE PROMISCUOUS!"

"Do not shout at me."  Umbridge's smile had only widened during my yelling.  "And just for that, I will take twenty points from Gryffindor, and I think, yes, I would like you to join Potter for his detentions.  Maybe just one for you.  Take this to McGonagall."  Umbridge whipped up a note and sealed it with wax.

My mouth sat firmly shut against the onslaught of swearwords that I was so eager to unleash.

As I walked towards McGonagall's office, I cursed out loud.  "Bitch, bitch, bitch…."  I knocked firmly on McGonagall's door.  She opened it suddenly and saw my scarlet face.  I stuck out the scroll and she took it.

"Come into my office, Favian."   She had me sit in a chair across from her desk as her eyes skimmed the letter.  McGonagall closed her eyes and breathed deeply.  "Is this true?  Did you truly shout at Professor Umbridge?"

"Yes."  I muttered.  

"Why, Favian?"  She almost pleaded.

I was shocked.  "She as good as called me a whore.  I know I shouldn't have lost my temper but… Professor, I don't understand why all the Slytherins hate me!"

"She called you what?"

"Not directly.  She just warned me about my promiscuous behavior."  I spat.  "And I'm so sick of it!"

"Favian, this is going to be difficult for you to hear, but you're going to have to deal quietly with Professor Umbridge's shortcomings."

I opened my mouth to complain.

"No, what she did was wrong, but there is something much higher at stake.  She was put here to keep an eye on happenings at Hogwarts.  By being thrust into this… I know there is a lot that you will not understand.  Just trust me when I ask you to…."

"Okay."  I muttered.  "I will deal with it quietly."

McGonagall smiled. But I was too angry to smile back.

"Favian!  What are you doing here?"  Harry asked quietly as we stood in front of Umbridge's office.

"I get detention too."  

"Why?"

"I yelled at her."

"Geez, Favian, when and why?"

"After class today because she called me a whore."  I muttered.  "But don't say anything.  McGonagall talked to me, I'm going to accept her stupidity.  After all, I lived in America and dealt happily with the stupid oil thing."

"Come in!"  Umbridge called.  "Now, Ms. Fynn, I don't think there will be a need for you to do the same as Mr. Potter, so I have Mr. Filch here with a task for you."  The scruffy old caretaker bore his yellow teeth at me.  

"Come with me."  Filch growled.  Harry looked surprised but shrugged at me.  I followed the caretaker out of Umbridge's office and into the corridor.

"How are you this evening?"  I asked politely.  

Filch sneered at me.

"Well, I'm fine, thanks."  I responded to nothing.  "I was in a bit of a foul mood earlier, but that's all good and out of the way."  I sang.

"I wouldn't be so chipper if I were you."

"Obviously not."  I smiled.  "You're a bit of a grumpy lumpy right now, but I think that's because you need a puppy dog to show you some affection."

Filch looked disgusted and Mrs. Norris, his mangy cat mewed unhappily.  

"I must say, your kitty is a cutie."  I babbled. 

"I'm glad I'll be rid of you in a few moments."  Filch growled.  

"Was my detention just walking with you?"

Filch grinned again.  "No.  You get to clean the Slytherin Common Room.  Professor Snape said it was a bit dusty."

My eyes widened but I tired to spit out a positive.  "I'm glad he thinks I'm thorough enough for the job.  My mother used to make me dust the living room all the time."

"I'll bet your mother didn't make you do it muggle style."

"Oh yes she did!  Because she's a muggle!"  Oops.  "It was my father that was the wizard."  I lied.  "She wasn't too fond of magic."

Filch ignored me and told me to wait.  He opened a stairwell with a password that I completely ignored, not even caring how to get into the Slytherin tower.  I followed Filch, walking by his side to his annoyance.  It was cold and dark in the hallway, lit only by a few torches.  

"Ooh, why do they like it so… sad-looking?"

Filch didn't respond, he just growled.

"You're not one for conversation.  Which is a pity; because I bet you have one helluva singing voice."

Filch looked at me.  "Really?"

"Yeah!  I mean, they're looking for growlers in the industry all the time.  Like Nickleback and Linkin Park and Nirvana…."  But we were in the Slytherin Common Room.

Filch snapped out of his nice mood and shoved a dusting cloth and spray bottle into my hands.

"Dust.  I'll be back in two hours."  And he slinked off.  The Common Room, to my horror, was packed.  It seemed as though they had heard about my detention.  

"We have a new House-Elf."  Malfoy snickered.

"You're lucky to have one that's so cute."  I said, lightly.  I went over to a bookshelf and pulled out the books.  

"Someone go get Montague."  I heard someone mutter.  I began dusting in a mad frenzy, and realized that that wouldn't make my two hours go any faster.  I sprayed the whole shelf and wiped it down until it smelled lemony fresh.  

"Hi, Favian, did you miss me?"  Montague breathed in my ear.

"Your breath is bad.  Here."  I sprayed at his face.  


	15. Aviata

He closed his eyes just in time.  _Crap.  _He grinned and wiped his face off on his sleeve.  He towered a head above me and was too muscular for me to take down.  Besides, I wouldn't attack someone in a whole Common Room full of his chums.

"I didn't expect you to come to my place."  He smiled.  "I guess you enjoyed that kiss more than you gave it credit for."

"You call that a kiss?"  I raised my eyebrows.  "I guess next to what a goat might do, it was something, but not by much."  I turned away and started putting the books back in the shelf.

"Is that what you were taught on in slut school?"  I heard Pansy screech.  "Goats?"

"No, those were brought only when oafs like Montague were no longer available.  But you should know that, Pansy, you were there with me."  I heard her gasp indignantly and say something to her friends.  I finished putting the books into the shelf and felt Montague putting his arms around me.  I ducked under his embrace and moved on to the next shelf.  

"Aw, Favian.  It wouldn't take long, just a little kiss."  Montague laughed.

I ignored him and dusted the shelf.  I finished and realized that Pansy and her crew had gone off to their dorms.  I was with all boys.  I felt nauseated.  At least with the girls there the guys might restrain themselves because they didn't want to offend their girlfriends.  I wished that I had my wand but McGonagall had told me to leave it in my dorm because detentions never, or rarely, required a wand.  

"Here, let's help her."  I heard a boy say.  He pointed his wand at the shelves that I was heading towards and made the books fly out and smack into me.  I fell to the floor with the force and was covered.  I dropped the rag and Lysol can in an attempt to cover my face.  I brought myself up, blushing furiously.  Montague and one of the boys who had pinioned my arms were holding my rag and bottle.  

I said nothing, breathing heavily.  I looked at an antique clock ticking on the fireplace.  It had only been ten minutes.  I groaned quietly.  

"Give those back."  I demanded.

"For a price."

"Then never mind, I'll dust with my socks."  I walked away and to the bookshelf.  

I bent over to unlace my shoe, but sat down instead.  I pulled off my shoe and sock and began rubbing down the shelf.  When I was finished, my sock was blackened with the dust.  I shook it off and started replacing the books.  As I reached to put one back in a higher spot, someone grabbed me around the waist and knocked me over, heavy books and all.  One boy held my hands above my head and I let out an unearthly shriek.  No way would they molest me or something.  But one pointed their wand to my throat and my voice was lost.  My eyes were wide.  I was terrified.  

I kicked violently at the boy at my feet.  My hips left the floor as I struggled.  I jerked all over the place when Malfoy came over.  His pale face grinned as he stared down at me.

"Now, didn't I say that I'd make you regret what you'd said to me?"

"Asshole."  I whispered, because that was all that I could do.

He only smiled.  A boy grabbed my legs and together they lifted me.  I swung back and forth and twisted my wrists to no avail.  They plopped me on a table and tied my arms and legs to the table legs.  

_Oh my God, no!  I struggled against my bonds.  Terror consumed me and I again tried to scream.  Nothing but air came out.  Malfoy sat on top of me.  The only upside to any of this was that I was completely dressed, and so was he.  Maybe this wouldn't turn into some ugly rape.  _

"You're lucky that the Dark Lord's already said something about you."  Malfoy whispered to me.  I frowned, confused.  "You probably wouldn't last very long if he hadn't."

"What?"  I breathed.

"Guess he needs you or something stupid."  Malfoy laughed.  Then, to my utter horror and revulsion, he lowered his face to mine.  I thought he was going to try and kiss me, but he licked my lips instead, laughing at my expression.  "I like your lip gloss, Favian."

I closed my eyes and pretended that there wasn't an evil boy sitting on top of me, tasting my chapstick.

"How much longer is she here for?"  Malfoy asked.

"Half an hour."

"Clean for her."  Malfoy grinned.  "And then you can all taste her lip gloss."

It was all I could do not to run screaming when Filch came to inspect my work.  The Slytherins vouched for me, saying I hadn't once used magic, but they said I was kind of sloppy.  Filch shrugged and took me from the room.  My wrists and ankles were raw from the ropes and my face was still wet.  When Filch wasn't looking at me, I wiped my face desperately on my robes.  

"You're quiet."  Filch noted.  "I guess that work took your spunk away."

"Or maybe," I whispered, "I sang so much that I lost my voice."

"They didn't mention your singing."

"That's because I'm so good that they didn't want to complain."  I continued without my voice.  "They forced me to it.  They're a rowdy bunch, those Slytherins.  You and I should go and sing a duet for them sometime."

Filch considered this, I think.  He sent me back to my own Common Room.  Harry and I were both running when we collided.  We both fell backwards.

"Fancy seeing you here."  I whispered.

"What?"  Harry asked.

"In the Common Room."  I said.  "Pixie Dust."  I said to the Fat Lady.  She swung open.

"Why are you whispering?"  Harry asked quietly.

"The Slytherins took my voice away."  I explained unhappily.  "I need to get my wand."

"Use mine."  He handed his own to me.  I brought my voice back.

"Ugh!"  I moaned loudly.  "And I still want to scream!"

"What happened?"

I told him everything except for the licking part, because that was too revolting.  

"They just tied you to the table and laughed?  They… didn't do anything else, er, did they?"

"Nothing horrible.  Just disgusting."  I said shrugging.  "And Malfoy said the weirdest thing… he said that Voldemort needs me or something weird, and that's why they wouldn't… well, you know.  Do you have any idea what that's all about?"

Harry shook his head.  I noticed his hand was bleeding.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?"  I grabbed his hand.

"I'm fine."

"That's just sick."  I looked at the words "I must not tell lies."  "She's awful."  I muttered.

Harry agreed solemnly.  "But so are the Slytherins."

"They're the ones that told her about my promiscuous behavior."  I grimaced.  "I need to shower.  I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah.  I guess so."  He moaned.  "I wish tomorrow wouldn't come."

"That makes two of us."

But the next day did come.  Surprisingly, I found myself laughing happily at breakfast as Montague and his two chaps brawled and were separated by McGonagall and Snape.  Their noses started bleeding profusely and they fell into a faint.  

"Churlish Chocolates, work every time."  George grinned.

"Thanks George, I owe you."

"And what about me?"  Fred asked.

"You too."  And I hugged them both.  

Transfiguration nearly brightened my mood as well when McGonagall snapped at Umbridge.  Apparently Harry earned another night's detention in Care of Magical Creatures, which I had not gone to because of the Slytherins being there.  Hermione, Ron and I went to the Common Room after supper to work on our homework.  I was finished before either of them because I had spent an entire period in the library.  I helped Ron on his Transfiguration essay, against Hermione's wishes, but I taught her some French after she was done, something I had failed to do the day that I had promised.  

It was about ten fifty when I fell asleep, lying down on the couch staring at the fire.  

_"Tom!  You've been here a lot more lately!"  I said happily._

_"I've had more time, Favian, and I know you need help."_

_"Ah, my dream psychologist."_

_Tom bowed.  "That's what I'm here for."_

_"What are you so busy with lately?"_

_"Work."  He said shortly.  _

_"What do you do?"  _

_"Hm, you could say I'm a bit of a spell-tweaker I suppose."_

_"I invented a spell."  I grinned._

_"Really?  What is it?"_

_"A spell for self-flight."_

_"Interesting.  How did you manage that?"_

_I explained about my wand.  "Mr. Ollivander told me that my wand was odd."_

_"Yes.  You are special, you know."_

_"Thanks, Tom."_

_"Not like that, I mean that you have special powers.  They've been written about if you were interested in learning more."_

_"Well, how do I find these texts if I don't even know exactly what I am?"_

_"In the library you will find a book of predictions and in the aisle over a book about special characteristics.  That one is Strange and Dangerous Phenomena by Orenda Merlin.  The Book of Predictions is actually a collection of predictions by renowned seers."_

_"I will look for those.  Tom?"_

_"Yes?"_

_"You are real, aren't you?"_

_"Yes."  He smiled._

_"How old are you for real?"_

_"I can be any age.  For now I am seventeen, but I will begin to age with you once you hit seventeen."_

_"Truly?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Tom?  Where can I find you?"_

_"I'll find you, Favian.  Don't worry yourself."_

_I smiled.  "When?"_

_"As soon as I can."_

_"I hope that's soon."_

_"Me too."_

"Favian!  Wake up!"  Hermione, Ron and Harry were all looking at me.

"What?"  I sat up groggily.  Harry was soaking his hand in the murtlap essence that Hermione had procured.

"Who's Tom?"  Ron asked, grinning.

"Oh," I blushed, "a wizard that I met in my dreams.  I think he's real, too.  I mean, he tells me things that I don't know.  He went here too, even though he's only seventeen right now."  I frowned.  "But he'll age once I hit seventeen, but that doesn't make sense to me." 

"He went here?  What house was he in?" 

"Slytherin.  But he's not bad."  I said quickly.  "I mean, I can tell him anything.  He's really nice.  And attractive too, but that's beside the point."  I blushed again.  I changed the subject quickly.  "How was your detention?"

"Eh.  It could've been better."  He smiled wryly.

"You know, I think we ought to do something about Umbridge."  Hermione said.

"I suggested poison."  Ron said.

"No, I mean about her as a teacher."  Hermione said.  "We need a proper teacher."

"If you're talking about Lupin…."  Harry started.

"No, he's busy with the Order."  Hermione shook her head.

"Who then?"  

Hermione heaved a very deep sigh.

"Isn't it obvious?  I'm talking about you, Harry."

"What about me?"

"You, our teacher."  Ron said.  

"But…."

"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and look what you've done!"

"How d'you mean?"  Harry asked.

"You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me."  Ron said to Hermione, smirking slightly.  "Let's think," he said, pulling a face like Goyle concentrating.  "Uh… first year- you saved the Stone from You-Know-Who." 

"But that was luck," Harry objected, "that wasn't skill-."

"Second year," Ron interrupted, "you killed the basilisk and destroyed Riddle."

I choked.  "Tom Riddle?"

Ron stopped his rant and stared at me.  Hermione and Harry both slowly turned to look at me.

"Sorry, but is that the Riddle you're talking about?"

"Yeah…?"

My eyes widened and I looked down.  "Sorry.  Never mind."  I didn't want to know more.  Tom Riddle could have been a common name in England, so I didn't want to ask.  Besides, if Harry had defeated him then obviously he was no longer around.  This had to be another Tom Riddle.

"No, Favian, no, no, we won't 'never mind.'"  Hermione said.  "What's up?"

"Nothing, I just thought I'd heard the name before, but I can't have."  I changed the subject again.  "I think Harry should teach.  He's done a lot with the Dark Arts."

"Yeah."  Ron said.  "I was just getting to third year."

"Stop."  Harry said.  "I'll think about it, okay?  I'm not promising anything."

"Thank you Harry."  Hermione smiled.  Harry and Ron headed up to their dorm and Hermione and I to ours.  I lay awake in my bunk for a good deal of the night, afraid to fall asleep and ask Tom if he was the same Tom….

Two weeks later we sat in the library looking up potion ingredients for Snape.  I had found what I needed but told them that I was getting another book out on potions.  I hadn't yet found the books that Tom had recommended I find.  I finally asked Madam Pince where they were.

"Strange and Dangerous Phenomena and The Book of Predictions."  She handed to large tomes to me.  "You can take them both as long as you return them before the end of next month."

"Thanks."  I went and sat down with the three of them.  They were discussing Harry's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.  

"You were the only person last year who could throw off the Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can, Viktor always said-."     

Ron looked around at her so fast he appeared to crick his neck; rubbing it, he said, "Yeah?  What did Vicky say?"

"Ho, ho."  Said Hermione in a bored voice.  

I flipped open Strange and Dangerous Phenomena to the table of contents.  The first thing that caught my attention was "Wings."  Tom had mentioned me being the wings of flight or something bizarre.  But that wasn't it.  I realized that I was just flipping without any real idea of what I was looking for, so I went to The Book of Predictions.  The table of contents in that particular book was easier for me to find what I was looking for.

_"Within the Twenty-First Century there shall be a girl from another land.  Her wand shall be of three different beasts.  She is the Aviata."_

"The Aviata."  I wondered aloud.  I went to Strange and Dangerous Phenomena and found a page on the Aviata, or me.  My heart raced and I bookmarked the page and returned The Book of Predictions.  

"Why do we have to do it outside school?"  Said Ron.

"Because," said Hermione, "I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to."

"Haha, more power to that."  I said grinning.

(A/N: I want to note my reasons and something else.  Yeah, it's a bummer for Favian, but look at the fifth book!  The whole way through, bummer after bummer, and then it gets all happy to do.  This will be the last chapter for now.  I'm going to get another story because I think fifteen chapters is a helluva lot for one story.  The second one will be called Wings of the Death Flight because I figure I can get fifteen more chapters out of this beast and then be done.  Maybe.  Thanks for reading.  Stay tuned for more Favian Fynn.)


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